Before the Legends
by Domina Temporis
Summary: This is the story of how a crew was formed. How the greatest command team in Starfleet came together. How three people became a trio, and how a ship called Enterprise would one day become legend.
1. Chapter 1

A/N Hey everyone! It's been a long time since I've posted, but I'm back for a while. This is a story that I've been working on more or less for the last five years, and I've been meaning to post it for a while.

* * *

"Congratulations, Captain," Admiral April said ceremoniously, handing James T. Kirk his assignment. "You have a big job ahead of you; you're going to be commanding the _Enterprise._ "

Kirk looked up, "That's your ship, sir." April looked at him appreciatively. Hardly anyone remembered April's short captaincy of the flagship, compared to the eleven years Christopher Pike had been at her helm, but then, Kirk had always been sharper than most people would give him credit for. That was why he was being given command of the flagship at the age of thirty in the first place.

"That's right. So you take care of her, you hear me? She's just had a refit and she'll be ready to go in a little more than a week. That'll give you the time to get to know the crew that's been assigned and choose any new crew members for yourself, if you want."

Kirk glanced at the readout of the _Enterprise_ 's crew, then said, "I only have one request. Lieutenant Gary Mitchell. He was in my first class at the Academy, and he's an excellent helmsman, sir. I believe he's serving on Starbase 2 at the moment."

April smiled, "That makes it easier. I'll contact him right away. In the meantime, you get to know your ship. The _Enterprise_ 'll be docking in about a day. Commodore Pike wanted to take her on one last cruise."

Kirk grinned back, "I understand. She's a beautiful ship." _And now she was his._

April leaned forward, suddenly serious, "She's the flagship, Jim. We're taking a risk, giving her to you. You're the youngest captain in Fleet history, and I can imagine there's a lot of pressure on you."

 _Too much_ , Kirk thought. But he always tried to project an aura of confidence, and he had no intention of letting on to his fears to the Fleet's most respected Admiral. He simply smiled and said, "I won't deny that. But I know how to command a ship, sir. I'll do the best job I can."

April smiled back, "Well, that's good enough for me. I wouldn't have let her go to you if I didn't think you could do it. And, to let you in on a little secret, once you're out there and away from all this bureaucracy, none of that will matter. It's just you, your crew, and your ship. Make it last; those are the best years of your life."

"I will, Admiral," Kirk said, saluting. He managed to contain his euphoria until he reached his temporary quarters, but once there, he burst out laughing in pure joy. He'd done it. His goal since he was eight years old was to be a starship captain, and as the years went on and he grew more focused, that ultimate goal had never left him. Now, he'd succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He'd never expected to reach captain before forty; no one ever had. Much less to be captain of the flagship by the age of thirty. Even though he knew the efforts he'd put into reaching this goal; the extra classes he'd taken at Starfleet Academy, volunteering for the dangerous missions as well as the grunt shifts no one wanted to take, extra training sessions; he'd never expected it to pay off so quickly. Sobering, he sat down on his bed, thoughts whirling around his head so fast he could barely catch them.

 _What if I'm not good enough? What if we run into that one situation no one could defeat? What if we lose the ship, and the crew?_ Kirk shook his head; he knew the quickest way to make sure he failed this assignment would be to start doubting himself from now. Take everything as it came, one week at a time, one day, one minute at a time if need be. Right now, the only thing he needed to do was get to know his new crew.

Surveying the list of names, Kirk found himself nodding. He knew of several of these officers already, either because he'd served with them before or because people he knew had served with them. He was sure he remembered one of the engineers on his last assignment wishing Montgomery Scott was Chief Engineer on their ship. Then, seeing something odd about the assignment for First Officer, Kirk did a quick double take. The roster only listed one officer for both First and Science Officer: Lieutenant-Commander Spock. Only one name. Kirk was intrigued enough that he called Admiral April on the viewscreen to make sure it was correct.

"Admiral? Whoever made up the crew assignments put the same officer down as both First and Science Officer. I was just wondering if that was a mistake."

April chuckled, "No, that's correct. Lieutenant-Commander Spock's more than capable of filling both posts. He'd probably find even that too light for him, from what I know."

"Hang on," Kirk said, remembering something hazy. "Lieutenant-Commander Spock, the one who wrote that paper on the link between transporters and the holographic projections found in the Orion belt?" He'd thought the paper was brilliant, and the possibilities raised by the connection were worth watching.

"That's the one. I didn't think you attended science conferences that often," April said, "but the attendees said Spock's got the potential to be one of the best scientists of his generation."

"I didn't go; I read the papers when they were published afterward," Kirk said, his voice hardening slightly. He considered keeping up with scientific research part of any Starfleet officer's job; they were primarily a scientific exploration fleet, after all. He called up Spock's basic personnel record, which regrettably didn't provide much information beyond years of service, postings and species. He was surprised to see Lieutenant-Commander Spock hadn't served anywhere but the _Enterprise_ since graduating the Academy, and never with a commander other than Pike. His last posting had been Science Officer of the _Enterprise_. Kirk's eyes widened; Spock had risen through the ranks as quickly as he had himself. For him not to be given the captaincy of a science vessel now seemed unfair. Then his eye moved to the species designation: Vulcan.

Suddenly, it all became clear. For all that Starfleet was an organization that promoted scientific exploration, equality and peace, it still retained much of its early military tradition from the Romulan Wars. There were few enough non-humans in Starfleet, fewer Vulcans, and those few were unlikely to rise as high in the ranks as the human officers. Although Vulcan was Earth's strongest ally and the second largest power in the Federation, the planet remained staunchly independent and many Vulcans continued to view humans as frivolous, over-emotional children who were not equipped for the role of interstellar leader they now found themselves in. A Vulcan officer who had risen through Starfleet's purely scientific branch (Kirk was unsure if there were any of these outside the all-Vulcan ship _Intrepid_ ) would likely find it easy enough to rise to command of a science vessel. Kirk had never heard of a Vulcan joining the nearly all-human military branch, and thought it likely such an officer would find himself passed over for promotion by both sides, fitting in nowhere. April's next words confirmed his suspicions.

"Jim, there were several captains who said they didn't think Spock was a good fit as First Officer for their own ships, and the science branch didn't really want someone from a military background as captain for one of their ships. I didn't want to skip him over for promotion; he deserved one, he's the best Science Officer in the Fleet, and Pike gave him glowing recommendations. This seemed a good compromise." April appeared apologetic, and Kirk thought with some anger that he should be. The captains who didn't want a Vulcan as first officer because he was too rigid and logical, the science branch that thought it was holier-than-thou, not daring to touch anything from the military branch. Stupid, petty bureaucracy that showcased the worst of human nature.

"I'll consider myself lucky then," Kirk said, signing off with confidence. Sitting back, he felt some of the confidence ebb. He was used to commanding crews he knew, not a group of strangers. And these strangers were the best of the best; they were on the _Enterprise_. Plus, for all he hated the blind bigotry of the Starfleet bureaucracy, he'd had very little experience dealing with Vulcans himself, all he knew was that they were devoted to logic and seemed not to need the pleasant, social companionship humans craved. Kirk couldn't suppress a slight grimace of worry; he was friendly and informal with his crews, needed that connection to stay grounded in the cold of space. If Spock was both First Officer and Science Officer, they'd be spending a lot of time together, and if they could never get past the cultural barrier, to be more than distantly professional, it looked like it would be a lonely five years. Still, he'd always made it a point never to judge someone before knowing them, and he wouldn't start now.

At least Gary would be there. There was always that, and nothing could really quench Kirk's excitement. His ship would be here tomorrow, and it felt like his whole life was about to start.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you, everyone for the reviews! I'm glad you're all enjoying so far :)

* * *

Lieutenant-Commander Spock was on duty, as he almost always was these days. The chaos of switching crews meant that the ship's usual efficiency was slipping, and Spock took it upon himself to maintain order. He had no intention of giving a false impression to their new captain.

"Ship running smoothly?" Pike asked, entering the bridge.

"Captain on the bridge!" Spock said quickly, wondering how he hadn't noticed the captain's appearance earlier. Pike waved everyone back to duty, then looked expectantly at Spock, who said, "We are on target to return to Spacedock by 0800 hours tomorrow morning."

"Good," Pike said, glancing toward Number One's empty chair at the helm. She had already left for her new posting, commander of Deep Space Station 3. Spock regretted the loss of her calm, steady presence, which made it easy to maintain the _Enterprise_ 's high standards, but he seemed to be the only one. Many of the crew had felt that Number One was too aloof and cold to be XO for a captain as reserved as Pike was himself. Spock was unsure if he was the ideal replacement; if anything he was more rigid and cold by human standards, but worrying about this was illogical. Besides, by all accounts, James T. Kirk was anything _but_ rigid and reserved.

Pike came over to Spock's science station, and the Vulcan snapped to attention, partially to hide the fact that he had been looking up Captain Kirk's service record. He wanted to know something about the man who would be commanding the ship for the next five years. From what he could see, Kirk had an incredible rate of success against seemingly impossible odds. His previous crews all gave him glowing reports, highlighting his easy sociability and care for his crew. Spock had inwardly groaned at this. He'd seen many officers like this, both in his days at the Academy and in his career on the _Enterprise_. They all seemed to join Starfleet for the "brotherhood" of fellow soldiers, rather than the goal of exploration and peacekeeping. When he was able to concentrate on his own duties with relatively little need to interact with his fellow officers, Spock was fine. Thrown into a more casual atmosphere, Spock found himself floundering. His command team for these last eleven years had been perfectly tailored to him (hardly surprising, as he'd asked to be placed on the _Enterprise,_ and Pike had approved the request the instant Spock had graduated). Pike and Number One were both aloof and rational, as humans went, and Spock knew he would have had a much more difficult time with any other command team.

"Walk with me," Pike said, leading Spock to the turbolift. "I wanted to say goodbye privately. I have to say, Spock, you're the officer I'm most proud of having been able to work with. You've become the best science officer in the fleet, and I have no doubt you'll be the best First Officer as well."

"Thank you, sir," Spock said before falling silent. Pike cleared his throat, attesting to the awkwardness of the situation. Emotional conversations were not a strength for either of them, and this was the first time since Spock had begun his career that they had spoken of anything not directly related to a mission. It was the first time Spock had discussed anything outside a mission with _anyone_ on board, actually.

"Well, I just wanted to wish you luck. I wish Starfleet would have given you a science ship. You deserve it," Pike said, as they entered the turbolift.

"Sir, I do not wish to command a ship," Spock said quickly. This was becoming a difficult subject to avoid, as Spock had known it would be the longer he stayed in Starfleet. Climbing through the ranks meant eventually commanding a starship. This was only logical, but Spock had never wanted it. For a moment, his father's old criticisms came back to him, that he hadn't thought this through, and he would never fit in with what Starfleet required. Then he came back to himself. The decision to join Starfleet had been the right one, he was sure of it. Kirk's captaincy was just another obstacle to get past. Five years was barely a blink to him, and at the end of that time he could transfer to serve under Pike again at Fleet HQ. That was his plan, at any rate. After three tours of duty on the _Enterprise_ , they could hardly refuse him, as long as everything went according to plan.

The turbolift stopped, and Pike stepped out. "I hope you do well, then." He held out his hand to shake, which Spock forced himself to take. Pike may have been aloof enough for his taste, but part of that meant he'd never bothered to find out what his officers liked and disliked, including Vulcan cultural taboos. Still, Pike had been a good commander, and Spock ruthlessly pushed down his own apprehensions at the change.

"I am sure I will. It was time for the crew to change. It would hardly be logical for my performance of my duties to decrease in quality," Spock said, with a note of finality in his tone. Pike nodded, leaving Spock to take the turbolift back to the bridge.

For all that he'd told Pike the change in crew wasn't bothering him, Spock considered it logical to mull over the potential changes to his own routine because of it. He already knew that Kirk would have a very different command style, one that he didn't expect to combine well with his own logical mindset. That was to be expected, and it was something he could find ways to cope with if he had ample time to himself. That, to Spock, was the larger problem. Pike's crew had come to know him quickly, to know that he did not want to be bothered during his off hours unless it was an emergency, and most of them had been happy to comply with his wishes. It wasn't that Spock was completely against social interaction, but his people defined friendship and intimacy (platonic or romantic) so differently than humans that few people on either side were able to breach the cultural barrier. It was better for both; most humans didn't enjoy being with what they termed overly logical Vulcans, and Spock found most of the leisure activities he witnessed with a polite bemusement, they were so far outside his experience.

But now the _Enterprise_ had undergone a refit and her crew complement had increased from 203 to 430. This meant that there would be more than double to number of humans on the ship, and that alone meant Spock would have to work harder to keep his precious time alone.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N In response to Red, who asked about McCoy and Scotty: I'm sorry, but it's only Kirk and Spock's POV. I tried to add McCoy and it just didn't work for me at all. I may someday do a companion story about him, because I love him and his pre-series life deserves some attention too, but I just couldn't get it to fit into this. He will show up though, as well Scotty!

* * *

Kirk woke early the next morning, already in a state of excitement but unable to remember why. Then, in a flash, it hit him. Today was the day the _Enterprise_ was arriving and he would finally get to take command. The day he'd been waiting for his entire life. Kirk grinned; elated. The only thing that could have made it better was if Gary had been able to join him, but the new navigator of the _Enterprise_ wouldn't be arriving for two days yet. Still, Kirk was determined to enjoy the day. It wasn't every day someone lived out their dreams.

He wanted to have a chance to see the _Enterprise_ himself before the official ceremony which would relieve Pike of command. He knew Pike was staying here on Starbase, to keep up the tradition that First Officers were in charge until the new captain was officially given command. So Kirk hoped he could have some time to himself on the ship before he had to put on the hated dress uniform and be on display for the crew. To bond with his ship, as silly as it sounded.

Reaching the transporter, he set it quickly and found himself in the _Enterprise_ 's transporter room in a matter of seconds. Kirk looked around, his grin disappearing in the awe of the moment. _She's mine_ , he thought, the thought both sobering and exhilarating. He'd loved all the other ships he'd served on; but not like this. From the instant his feet touched the floor; Kirk was swept away by the sheer power of the _Enterprise._ He knew the specs, that she had the same abilities and same limits as every other Constitution class starship, but she felt different. Maybe it was because he knew she was the flagship, maybe it was because he was in the position of authority here, he couldn't say. It was enough that he was here, and the thought that he had five years with her was more exciting than anything he'd ever experienced. The excitement of taking command and the responsibility of keeping the ship and crew safe threatened to overwhelm him, and he shook his head and left the transporter room. _Don't get ahead of yourself_ , Kirk warned himself. _Let's see what else this ship has to offer._

Most of the corridors were empty at this early hour. The few crewmembers he did pass seemed not to realize he was going to be their captain, which suited Kirk fine. It was useful to get to know the ship the way the majority of his crew would know her; simply as an anonymous crewman. There would be plenty of time after that to be the captain. As he walked by the different departments, Kirk quizzed himself on the department heads, which he'd spent the night memorizing.

 _Engineering, Lieutenant-Commander Scott_ , Kirk thought, watching the engines slumbering gently. He couldn't wait to fire them up and see what the ship could really do.

The Sickbay seemed well organized, Kirk was happy to see. Pike's Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Piper, was staying on for the next six months to smooth over the transition before retiring. Kirk made a mental note to keep an eye out for possible replacements, since he would have to handle that before long. Maybe his old friend McCoy would do…? He shook the thoughts from his head, passing by Security, which would be under the command of Lieutenant-Commander Giotto, who had followed Kirk from the _Farragut_ with a promotion of his own. Kirk knew Giotto was a competent officer, although he'd never had many dealings with him.

Passing by the science labs, Kirk was unsurprised to find them in a state of such neatness they put every other department to shame. He'd expected nothing less from the mysterious Lieutenant-Commander Spock. Kirk started wandering through the labyrinth of different labs, his mind going back to McCoy as a possible replacement for Dr. Piper. It would be nice to have another friend besides Gary here, although he'd have to be careful. If he wasn't careful, someone would accuse him of playing favorites.

Kirk nearly passed by the geology labs without entering until he noticed someone sitting there alone. His brow furrowed; no one could possibly be on duty at this hour in the geology labs while they were still in Spacedock . He entered, and Lieutenant-Commander Spock rose to attention instantly.

"Captain, you are not scheduled to take command until 1400 hours."

Kirk smiled, "I know, Commander. I would venture a guess you're not supposed to be on duty either, are you?"

"I am reorganizing the filing methods for rock samples in preparation for our mission," Spock said, as if it was the most natural thing in the galaxy to spend off-duty time organizing the geology lab. Kirk, however, nodded thoughtfully. He realized instantly that having someone so conscientious as his right-hand man could be utterly invaluable, whatever their personal feelings toward each other were.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk said. "This is the flagship; we should have higher standards than the other ships." He grinned to show he was joking, then faltered as he met Spock's stony expression. He cleared his throat awkwardly, "So, where does everything go? You need some help?"

Spock raised an eyebrow in what Kirk could only assume was bemusement. He had clearly never expected the new captain to show up and ask to be put to work in the science labs. "This section is for sedimentary specimens, which are the most common type found. However, I am almost finished."

"Did you stay up all night finishing this?" Kirk asked.

"I require less sleep than humans do," Spock answered, finishing cleaning the last drawer and putting it back. "Work like this rarely gets completed during active duty hours."

Kirk filed away the knowledge that Vulcans needed less sleep than humans, then looked his new First Officer in the eye. "I'm glad it gets done. I don't know how Pike ran this ship, but I'm not one to interfere in a department if it seems to be running smoothly, and I don't see how yours could do anything else."

Spock's stern expression told Kirk (if he was right in his interpretation of Vulcan expressions, he wasn't sure) that he expected his department to be left alone. "Captain Pike believed strongly in the isolation of command. Each department was expected to run efficiently on its own."

Was that a warning? Kirk hadn't expected any difficulties in the transition; he knew that few crew members were staying on, and if Fleet rumor was correct, Pike was not one to engender strong loyalty among his crew. But, he realized belatedly, that aloof style was perfect for the Fleet's only Vulcan, and his own was pretty much the exact opposite. He and Spock could very easily find themselves unable to work through these differences. "Mr. Spock, I am aware that I'm very different from Captain Pike, and I have a much more…interpersonal command style. If that's going to be difficult for you, I'd like to know now. We're going to be working together a lot, and I want this to be comfortable for you as well as for me."

Spock watched Kirk blankly. Or was he? Kirk cursed inwardly; he really couldn't tell. How were they supposed to develop the rapport that was necessary between command partners?

"Differences in command styles are irrelevant. I am a Starfleet Officer. To not perform my duties satisfactorily would be illogical and in breach of my oath," Spock answered. Kirk resisted the urge to sigh. Professional detachment then. It wasn't as if he'd expected much more; he'd never really become _friends_ with his captain on the _Farragut_ , but they were friendly. This would be tough to manage for five years, and he couldn't help wondering if the benefit of natural Vulcan efficiency was worth the disadvantage of not ever really knowing his second-in-command.

The awkward silence stretched on, and Kirk finally stood up. "Well, Mr. Spock, I'm glad we met before the ceremony. Now all I have to do is find my quarters."

"I can take you to them, Captain," Spock said. "Your belongings should already have been brought on board."

"Curious about what your captain chose to bring with him?" Kirk asked knowingly, receiving another blank look in reply. He sighed; he'd have to stop joking with Spock. "Thank you."

The walk to his quarters was silent in the extreme. Kirk had never considered himself overly extroverted, contrary to his popular image, but Spock made him seem downright garrulous in comparison.

His quarters, he was pleased to see, were larger than the ones on the _Farragut_ , and his bags, books and other belongings had already found their way there. Kirk almost smiled, watching Spock try to hide his curiosity about his new captain.

"You have bound books?" Spock asked curiously, picking up Kirk's copy of _Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde_.

Kirk smiled to himself. It was an eccentricity of his, that he preferred physical books to electronic records. "My family has maintained a home library for generations. I grew up on physical books."

Spock leafed through the pages, "I have only seen physical books in museums. They are an illogical use of resources."

Kirk looked up at Spock, taking the book back. "I know. We don't print and bind newer books, but we do buy antique books, and we keep the ones we've always had. When we lose sight of what our ancestors did, Mr. Spock, we lose sight of ourselves."

Spock raised an eyebrow again, this time in…contemplation? "An interesting idea, Captain. However, I must return to duty before the ceremony."

"Of course, Mr. Spock. I'll see you then." As Spock left, Kirk mulled over his first meeting with his new First Officer. He'd got past the first meeting. At least now they knew where they stood. Once they were on their way and the whole crew was together, the reality of working together would work itself out. It had for every crew in fleet history, and the crew of the _Enterprise_ were the best of the best. It would happen for them too.


	4. Chapter 4

Spock disliked the necessary ceremony surrounding a change in command. In his experience it was usually a pompous, overblown affair where a new commanding officer tried to make himself sound better than the old one by making promises and claims he couldn't keep. He was surprised, therefore, to see that Kirk kept it brief, projecting a natural aura of confidence instead of a faked bravado. His speech was calculated to touch the emotions in his audience without them noticing, a benign manipulation Spock instantly realized would give him an edge against any antagonists. But Kirk also made a point of speaking personally to many of the crewmembers afterward, and he had something individual to say to each of them. Many of the crew seemed thrilled by this, grinning at each other after Kirk had moved on. Spock was suitably impressed in a way he hadn't expected to be with his new captain. It certainly looked as if Kirk's tendency to inspire loyalty in his crews was based in fact.

After the ceremony and following party, Spock entered the mess hall at his usual time, the end of the alpha shift day. He requested this time specifically so he could be one of the few people in there, if not the only one, and he was unsure if this arrangement would stay the same after today. He intended to savor it as much as he could.

Lost in his reverie, Spock almost didn't notice that he wasn't alone. A young man in command gold looked up when he came in. "I've only just arrived. Gary Mitchell," the newcomer said. Spock nodded his greetings, noticing that Mitchell's expectant look had dimmed considerably when he saw Spock's pointed ears. He wrote it off as he had so many small, tactless human reactions, especially since it gave him what he wanted in the first place; a quiet atmosphere where no one would bother him. He purposefully sat on the opposite side of the room from Mitchell, just to drive the point home.

No sooner had Spock settled himself in front of the mess hall viewscreen to review the news of the day than Kirk walked in. His face broke into a smile when he saw Mitchell. "Gary! I didn't know you'd arrived. You should have let me know."

Mitchell stood up, shaking Kirk by the hand, "Come on, Jim, I didn't want to bother the captain on his first day of duty. Hey, sorry I couldn't be here for the ceremony. Did it go well?" They sat down together, and Spock gave up all hope of being able to concentrate on either the news or his dinner properly. But he watched interestedly; Gary Mitchell was, by all accounts, the captain's closest friend, and it was often easier to tell something about a person by who they chose as friends.

"It was fine. Pike didn't really talk to me much, but I got to meet most of the crew. You should be sorrier you missed the party afterward," Kirk said. By all accounts it had been a good one. Spock had remained on duty with no regrets to free up officers who did want to attend.

Mitchell waved a hand, "You know what Pike's like. Reserved, quiet. Probably better for him to be in command of a fleet where he has people to talk to the crews for him."

Kirk smiled, but this time, Spock noticed that the smile didn't reach his eyes. "He deserved the promotion though. I have very large shoes to fill."

Mitchell didn't seem to be interested, instead asking, "So, who are we going to be serving with for the next five years?"

"Well, I think you'll like the chief engineer," Kirk said. "Montgomery Scott. Word is he keeps a stash of real liquor onboard, and he can get the ship to do things no other engineer can." Spock knew the truth of both these facts, although he was only interested in the second. Mitchell's interest seemed piqued, though.

"Really? Well, I'll have to see what he can do for me. I'd love to be at the helm of a ship going faster than Warp 6."

Kirk laughed, "Now, hold on a minute, I said he could do great things with the engines, I didn't say he was a miracle worker. Who else is there? Oh, yes, Dr. Piper. He seems pretty laid back, but he's retiring in six months, so we'll need a replacement anyway. I was thinking maybe McCoy?" He seemed to be asking Mitchell's opinion, but the younger man just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You know McCoy and I never got along."

Kirk sighed in defeat, "I know, but he is a good doctor. I'd like to get him out of that rut he's in on that space station."

Mitchell shrugged. "If anyone could do it, you could. He's been on the blacklist by the Admiralty practically since he joined up. But, hey, you got me off of that station and behind the helm of a ship again. Thanks for that," Mitchell raised his glass to Kirk. "It's gonna be just like the Academy with the two of us here, you know?"

"I don't know about that. I am captain, Gary, and we have a mission," Kirk said with the slightest hint of warning.

Mitchell shrugged, as if it didn't matter, "And we'll do it. The boy wonder of the Academy? Nobody could stop you. But off-duty is a different story." He grinned at Kirk, and the effect was to make him appear like he'd never left the Academy.

To Spock's horror, Kirk almost seemed to be considering the idea. Turning the _Enterprise_ crew into an older version of what passed for social life in the Academy dorms was something close to Spock's worst nightmare, and he wished more than ever that he'd been allowed to transfer.

But Kirk's expression changed quickly from slightly nostalgic to determined and he quashed the notion decisively, "You make it sound like I did nothing but party the whole time I was at the Academy. Don't you remember how often you had to drag me out of the office? Don't you remember how many times I _refused_?" Spock barely concealed his inward sigh of relief, unconsciously noting that Kirk was proving to be independent-minded, even against an old friend. Interesting.

"Yeah, yeah, Jim Kirk, the walking textbook. I know. But that's why I'm here, to pull you out of the office and into life," Mitchell said, waving a careless hand. "Besides, if I wasn't here you'd only have Spock over there, and what fun would that be?"

Kirk turned around quickly, "Mr. Spock, I must have walked right past you, I'm sorry. I hope we're not bothering you." Spock raised an eyebrow in amused fascination as Kirk looked around the empty mess hall. His ears reddened as he realized they were the only people in there, and what Spock must have wanted when he came in. "I'm sorry, we'll go. You can have the room to yourself." He got up, pulling Mitchell up after him.

"Thank you, Captain," Spock said as they left. He had met few other humans who would be as generous.

Kirk smiled, seemingly unoffended at being asked to leave his own mess hall. "You're welcome, Mr. Spock. And, please, if I'm bothering you, just say so."

Mitchell looked down and muttered, "Isn't being bothered an emotion?" Kirk shot him a look full of venom, and the helmsman fell silent instantly. Spock pretended he hadn't heard, but locked eyes with the captain for a few seconds before the two humans left and what he read there assured him that Kirk did not approve of such comments.

Still, it was illogical for someone as concerned for his crew's well-being, and as respectful of differences as Kirk had shown himself to be so far, to look past these faults in his closest friend on the ship. The only logical explanation was that Mr. Mitchell was an old friend, and humans often overlooked faults in their oldest friends, although Spock could not understand it.

Then again, maybe Mitchell really was just an excellent helmsman. Spock would never understand human emotional connections. Regardless of Kirk's own (albeit unexpected) respectful attitude and interest in maintaining good relations with Spock, between him and Mitchell, with this McCoy possibly being added later, Spock knew he could end up spending the next five years caught in a web of human social drama, and he could barely pretend to hide his foreboding.


	5. Chapter 5

The _Enterprise'_ s first official mission was routine enough; a supply run to the Federation colonies on Magus 5, near the Rigelian border. Kirk supposed he shouldn't have expected his first mission as captain to be an exploratory charting of unknown space or an undercover reconnaissance in Klingon territory, but he had hoped he'd have something a little more exciting. He pushed these thoughts out of his mind, concentrating on the job at hand. It was good proving ground if nothing else, and an easy way to get used to commanding a starship for himself.

"Hold course, Mr. Mitchell," Kirk said. Mitchell turned around and grinned. Kirk smiled back; glad his bridge was slowly becoming less formal. The new crewmembers seemed to appreciate Kirk's personal interest in them and repaid him by working doubly hard at their jobs. At this rate, they looked ready to prove themselves worthy of the title of best in the fleet, all while keeping the ship a pleasant, friendly place to work. The remainders of Pike's crew seemed to be adapting quickly; seemingly enjoying the relaxation of rules.

The exception, or rather, possible exception, Kirk thought as he felt his First Officer's eyes watching him from the Science Station, was Mr. Spock. He'd really thought they would have established some kind of rapport by now, since the first few days had gone better than Kirk ever expected, but when Spock greeted Kirk this morning with the usual "Captain on the bridge!" Kirk had visibly winced. He hated that particular archaic naval tradition. Anyone with eyes could _see_ the captain was on the bridge. He was sitting in the captain's chair, wasn't he? He had three stripes on his sleeves, didn't he? "Please, Mr. Spock, can we drop that custom? I've never liked it." Kirk saw Gary grin quickly at Spock's almost affronted expression.

"It is regulations, Captain."

"And I'm the captain. It's a waste of time and I expect this crew to be at their best whether I'm on the bridge or not. A warning, Mr. Spock, is unnecessary," Kirk said. Spock fell silent, saying only, "Yes, sir," and the captain was unable to tell if he was only grudgingly agreeing to follow an order or if he had been won over by the logical argument.

Now, Spock remained bent over the science station as he had all morning, looking up only to tell Kirk they were approaching Magus 5. Why was this so difficult? It wasn't... logical, to borrow his First Officer's phrasing, to wonder whether he was offending someone who by cultural definition _couldn't_ be offended. But he still always had the feeling that he wasn't living up to Vulcan standards.

"We're being hailed, sir," Lieutenant Uhura informed him calmly, putting an end to his worries about living up to his First Officer's reputation.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Open a channel, tell them we're beaming down to deliver supplies. Mr. Spock, with me, Mr. Mitchell, you have the bridge."

Spock wordlessly stood up and followed him, waiting until they were in the turbolift to say, "Captain, it is illogical for both senior officers to take part in a mission."

Kirk nodded, "You're right, as usual, Mr. Spock. But as captain, it's my job to make contact with planetary leaders, especially on the first mission. And since we're delivering scientific equipment in exchange for whatever data they've gathered, the science officer should be present as well. Don't you agree, Commander?"

"Indeed," Spock said quickly. "Your argument is most logical."

"Why, thank you," Kirk said teasingly, only to be met with Spock's blank stare. He'd forgotten, no joking with Spock. For an instant, Spock reminded him of his brother Sam; exceptionally intelligent, but so introverted he had difficulty making friends, or even of keeping up with basic social interaction. Sam was a kind, interesting person once you took the time to know him; it was possible Spock was the same. Kirk resolved not to give up.

"We're meeting a Councilor Timmons," Kirk said as they beamed down into the main city, surrounded by the crates they were delivering. He knew the basic history of the colony, that it had been established as a scientific outpost almost a hundred years before. In the time since, several small settlements had been established, all of which had exceptional astronomic training centers that were known throughout the quadrant. Looking up, Kirk saw that the city was covered by a transparent dome; beyond that, the black of space was visible even though it was technically daylight. Although the planet did have an oxygen atmosphere, it was thin enough to make space visible at all times. It was one of the reasons the planet had become so known for astronomical observation.

"Councilor Timmons was one of the most respected astrophysicists in the quadrant before he was elected to lead Magus 5," Spock said. "His paper on dark matter and its relation to stellar birth is considered seminal in the field."

"Hmm," Kirk said, "Interesting how the planet is governed by scientists after they've already had respected careers."

"It is a planet entirely devoted to scientific research," Spock said, a note of awe almost audible in his voice. "This planet is uniquely placed to view multiple nebulae at different times of day, and its thin atmosphere means it is an ideal place to measure the concentrations of many particles undetectable in thicker atmospheres."

Kirk looked up again, scrutinizing the beautiful purple nebula that splashed over the entire sky. "Is that just one of the nebulae they can see?"

Spock looked up too, "That is the Iris Nebula, visible only in the daylight. At night, the Cocoon Nebula becomes visible." Kirk could easily see where the nebula had received its name; the shape and color were remarkably similar to an iris.

"It's too bad we won't be here at nightfall, the transition from one nebula to the other must be spectacular," Kirk said.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Councilor Timmons, who invited them to view the planet's state-of-the-art observatory. Spock's eyes brightened with interest, and Kirk agreed, leaving the government staff to deliver the scientific instruments safely.

"We're currently studying the neutron stars in the Cocoon Nebula," Timmons told Kirk and Spock. "We've discovered large numbers of them, and we're trying to determine why there are so many."

"Was there a cataclysmic supernova of some sort?" Spock asked, and Timmons nodded.

"That's our working hypothesis; only no one's ever found evidence for so many happening all at once like that. It would have devastated life in this part of the galaxy."

"Or perhaps made it possible for there to be so many populated planets here," Spock countered. It was true that this part of the quadrant was unusually conducive to life, with multiple class-M planets at similar stages of development. "Perhaps the high concentrations of heavier elements from the supernovae gave rise to the high volume of inhabited planets in this region of space."

"That's a distinct possibility, but we're still collecting data. We're nowhere near testing it," Timmons answered. He and Spock looked at the raw data and Kirk watched them with interest. If he didn't know better, he'd say Spock was more than professionally interested; he was almost… _passionate._ Logically passionate, but it was the first time Kirk had seen something...not human, but _real_ , in his otherwise stiff second in command. If only they could get past this awkward stage of feeling each other out. Kirk knew he was giving away information about himself freely with every word he spoke, every action he took, and every facial expression. It felt unbalanced, since Spock gave away nothing. No wonder so many humans found being with Vulcans disconcerting. It automatically put humans in a vulnerable position, and many would have reacted by becoming defensive. Kirk just found himself wanting to even it out; the few glimpses he'd had of Spock underneath that outer logical shell were indications that there was someone unique and interesting there, no matter how disconcerting these first few days were.

"That was a fascinating opportunity," Spock said, as they beamed back into the transporter room.

"I'd like to see what research they publish about these supernovae," Kirk said. "It was a successful first mission, wouldn't you say, Commander?"

Spock was silent, "Captain, my rank is Lieutenant-Commander. It is illogical to refer to me as Commander."

"First officers are supposed to be Commanders. I don't know why Starfleet felt they didn't have to promote you, probably because you're still Science Officer as well, but by rights you should be a Commander. Besides, it takes less time to say," Kirk said with a smile. Spock raised an eyebrow, and this time Kirk was sure it indicated amusement, mixed with exasperation at human logic.

Either way it was an improvement.


	6. Chapter 6

Spock ordinarily thrived on routine. He disliked unpredictability, or at least he told himself he did. What was unpredictable was inherently illogical, and it was a deeply ingrained cultural belief that illogic was one step from utter chaos.

However, he was finding the first month of James Kirk's command to be far too predictable for his liking. Their first few missions had all been supply runs or ferrying relatively unimportant delegates to and from their destinations. Spock did his duty-shifts, his lab time and his off-duty hours in the same rotation with no interruptions, and was starting to feel as if he were running on automatic. There usually had been some more excitement under Pike's command, although he appreciated the wisdom in letting an untested captain prove himself on relatively hard-to-mess-up missions.

Spock observed that he was the only one who seemed to be noticing this; he'd overheard young Lieutenant Sulu, a bright newcomer with a large number of interests that managed to both conflict and be completely unrelated to each other, discussing the "social" that had taken place the previous night. Thinking back, Spock realized he had hardly seen the captain this month, aside from their shared duty-shifts. Kirk had taken to letting Spock hold the bridge while he led landing parties; these missions were not so important that they required the presence of both command officers. This was an acceptable partnership to Spock, and he had become more and more content with the idea that his partnership with Kirk was settling into something similar to what he'd had with Pike. He had expected so much worse that this was a pleasant surprise. So why was he now finding it almost…boring?

On his way back from the late shift that night, Spock witnessed the break-up of one of these famous "socials." Spock neither knew nor cared what humans chose to do in their off-duty hours, as long as they showed up for work sober and prepared, which so far, they all had. Nevertheless, part of him saw the tendency to socialize with the crew as inappropriate for a captain. He couldn't help it, on Vulcan, superiors in any field did not socialize with underlings unless at a professional engagement.

Then again, on Vulcan nobody socialized outside of their families, bondmates and extremely close friends, and it was illogical to judge one species based on another's values. He watched Gary Mitchell leave, laughing with one of the younger women from phaser control. Sulu and Uhura followed, discussing opera, followed by Kirk, who smiled as he watched his crew disperse.

Seeing Spock pass by, Kirk ran to catch up. "Mr. Spock, I've been looking for you. I feel like I've hardly seen you since the first week of command."

"I have been on the bridge, Captain," Spock answered, wondering where else the captain expected to see him. He didn't expect Spock to show up at one of these social events, did he?

"Well, yes, but outside of that," Kirk said.

Spock stopped, unsure how to answer. He could not simply answer that he spent all off-duty time in his quarters and would prefer it to remain that way without being considered rude, but any other response would invite unwanted socializing into his life. He remained silent.

Seeing Spock's discomfort, Kirk started walking again and said, "A lot of us have started just gathering in the mess hall after the alpha shift for the last couple of weeks. Just a way of getting to know each other before we get sent on more important missions and we don't have time."

"An interesting idea, Captain," Spock said neutrally. "It will help in forming the crew into a coherent whole." It had taken much longer on Pike's ship, he had to admit it. The evidence was plain; Kirk's crew was already operating like a well-oiled machine.

"My thoughts exactly," Kirk said. "I wasn't sure if you knew or not, there was never a good time to bring it up, but you're always welcome, you know."

"Thank you for the invitation, Captain," Spock said flatly. "But I find human social occasions…tedious."

Kirk, to his surprise, burst out laughing. "So do I, Mr. Spock. I'm trying to make these a little different – tonight Lt. Uhura, sang for us, did you know she trained as a vocalist in high school? Next week Lt. Sulu's giving a fencing demonstration. But I understand what you're saying. If it was up to Gary it would be drinking games every night."

Spock raised an eyebrow, surprised that the captain shared his opinion of most of the pointless socialization that went on in human society. He began to consider if it was possible that he'd misjudged him when Kirk continued, "But it is useful to get to know each other. We're going to be stuck together for the next five years."

"That is a logical point," Spock answered. He'd never considered the idea that "hanging out," as the humans called it, actually had a purpose. It seemed so pointless from his point of view. That was something new to think about. "However, I would have thought an alternative method would have been invented."

Kirk shrugged, "Most people seem to enjoy this one."

"It seems somewhat…inefficient," Spock remarked.

"Well, what would you suggest?"

Spock thought, then answered, "In my experience, the best way for individuals to truly know one another is to live through a dangerous situation together." It had taken a few dangerous encounters before Pike's crew truly meshed together. Spock had never seen anything change so quickly. He went on, "Since that is not feasible, simple conversation between two people seems the best option to me."

Kirk started laughing, "No, I suppose inducing dangerous situations isn't really feasible." It struck Spock how unusual it was for someone to find him funny, at least, in a way that wasn't supposed to humiliate him as well. They passed the door to his quarters, and astonishing himself, Spock continued on. Perhaps it was because he'd been so bored, or perhaps because he was starting to agree with Kirk that they should have a better working relationship, he didn't want to stop.

"You have a point, Mr. Spock," Kirk was saying. "The only person I've been able to talk to the way you're describing is Gary, and that's because I've known him for years."

Spock's silence must have conveyed something of his opinion of Mr. Mitchell, because Kirk looked up. "You don't like Gary, do you?"

The captain was very perceptive, Spock thought. Not many people would have been able to tell his true opinions after only a month. Even Pike would have found it difficult after eleven years. "Mr. Mitchell and I have very different approaches," Spock finally said diplomatically.

"You're right about that," Kirk said. "I don't think I've seen you two agree yet. That's all right; I like having different perspectives open to me. I wouldn't want my officers to agree all the time, either with me or each other." Spock was surprised again at the captain's accurate observation, and that he realized the value disagreement could bring.. Most humans were blind when it came to their friends' fault, and sought any way to make people get along. At every briefing Gary Mitchell seemed to suggest the approach that took the least time, and often got away with doing as little work as possible. Spock found this unprofessional, and even Kirk was starting to seem annoyed. The captain sighed, "I'm used to having more than one friend aboard ship, and I'm still getting used to everyone here. I haven't even found a chess partner yet!"

Spock's interest rose, "You play chess, Captain?"

"Yeah, my dad taught me. He said it was good for strategy. I was president of my high school chess club," Kirk said. "Do you play?"

"I do," Spock answered. "I participated in tournaments in the Vulcan equivalent of high school, although 'clubs' are almost unheard of there."

"I don't have the morning duty shift, do you want to play now?" Kirk asked eagerly.

Spock didn't know what made him say yes, but he saw the excitement in Kirk's face, and remembering his own words, that one-on-one conversation was the best way to get to know each other, felt he could hardly refuse. Besides, this was the first time since the change in command that he hadn't felt...disconnected from everything else.

He found himself in the captain's quarters for the second time, and soon they were seated across the table from each other, the tri-D chess board set up between them. There was little conversation, a relief to Spock, who had already spent much more time talking then he was used to. Instead, he concentrated on the game. The captain was proving to be a much better player than Spock had anticipated.

After almost three hours, the captain finally looked up. "I don't think this game is going to end anytime soon, do you?"

"No, Captain," Spock answered.

Kirk shook his head, "You're very good."

"So are you, sir."

"I'll leave this set up," the captain said as he escorted Spock to the door. "We need to finish it some time." He grinned as Spock left. Of course he realized he'd been tricked into further off-duty time spent with the captain. But he didn't mind. In fact, he was almost looking forward to it. The captain had surprising depths, as an opponent and as a person, and Spock was starting to think that the next five years might not be boring at all.


	7. Chapter 7

"Jim, come on. We only have twelve hours on this planet!" Gary said as he led Kirk through the halls of one of the more populated space stations in the quadrant.

"I'm coming, Gary," Kirk said with a smile, but as Gary moved on, the captain found himself wondering how he had done this so often when he lived on Earth. It seemed as if he and Gary had done something similar each weekend, go out drinking, find a different girl every night, and spend all their time with an ever-expanding group of friends until there was no time left to think. Kirk remembered now how he'd started to find it draining, even then. He liked a night out, multiple nights out, but he couldn't do the same thing all the time. At least on Earth he'd had the option of staying home, or of making alternative plans with a quieter, more introspective friend. Here, though, he and Gary were cut off from everyone else. Kirk hadn't remembered how exhausting that was, to be Gary Mitchell's only source of entertainment. Paradoxically, he was feeling more alone now that he was serving with his best friend than he had in all his other assignments where he started out the same as everyone else.

The bar Gary led them to was small and dark. Kirk looked around, seeing several other _Enterprise_ crewmen already there. "This is just like that place down by the port in San Francisco," Gary said happily.

"You mean the place where I got into a bar fight with the seven-foot-tall Ionian?" Kirk asked.

"Hey, you didn't know she was his girlfriend. Why would someone like that go out with an Ionian?" Gary said with a shrug.

"My point is, I could get away with bar fights when I was a lieutenant teaching an Academy class," Kirk said. He shuddered to think what Starfleet would say if its youngest captain disgraced himself with a pointless, drunken fight. He purposely ordered a drink with low alcohol content, just to be sure.

"Come on, Jim, you're still the same guy. You wouldn't have made it to captain unless you were willing to take some risks," Gary said. Kirk had to admit he had a point; no wallflower made it to captain either so he owed Gary a lot as well, for introducing Kirk to that side of himself. It was all too confusing, Kirk thought as he sat down at the bar. He sipped his drink, a red concoction whose ingredients he was actually unsure of, wondering if he was still the same person he'd always been. He felt like reaching the captaincy had changed him more than he'd thought it would. He was aware of the responsibility at all times, not just for the lives of his crew, but for Starfleet's reputation. Each captain was a representative of the Federation; he couldn't do anything that would reflect badly on the Fleet. Not that he'd ever really wanted to, but the added responsibilities made up a gulf between him and Gary he was finding it hard to cross.

Not that Gary noticed. Glancing up, Kirk saw that Gary had conjured up a few _Enterprise_ crewmen and locals seemingly out of thin air, and was telling a very loud story about his Academy days. Kirk rolled his eyes, and nodding to the other members of his crew, left quietly. They were shipping out tomorrow, and he couldn't go on duty tomorrow morning hungover. At least not anymore; there was a time he could have reported to duty almost directly from a bar, but the thought of the look on Spock's face if he tried that now was enough to stop him.

The next day, Kirk and Gary stepped around each other with forced politeness, until they reached their destination. The _Enterprise_ 's mission was to pick up some artifacts discovered on one of the moons in the Beta VI system. It was an easy assignment that didn't really require the captain's presence, but Kirk decided to take the opportunity to beam down and invited Gary to join the landing party. He hadn't been planetside on a mission in a couple of weeks, and it would give them a chance to talk.

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk, of the United Starship _Enterprise_ ," Kirk said to the leader of the archaeological team.

"Welcome, Captain. We've been getting very exciting results on this dig. I hope you'll let me give you a tour?"

"Yes, of course," Kirk said. "This is Lieutenant Gary Mitchell, and our ship's historian, Lieutenant Marla MacGyvers."

According to the tour, the team had unearthed evidence of writing that predated anything found in this system so far, and Kirk assured the team leader he would deliver the artifacts safely to the research station on Starbase 3. He and Gary wandered away after the tour, leaving Lt. MacGyvers to conduct further research and help pack the artifacts.

"This is a beautiful planet," Kirk remarked as he and Gary walked through the fields. The grass was long and covered in purple flowers. There was a constant gentle breeze, and Kirk smiled. "It's nice to feel grass instead of metal floors."

"You always were more of a nature guy than me," Gary answered. "How come you left last night? It's not just because you can't afford to lose your 'reputation' now that you're captain."

"You're right," Kirk said. "I guess I've changed since we last served together. How long ago was it?"

"Since you were at the Academy," Gary answered.

"Right. And even then, I was more serious than you."

Gary scoffed, "The walking textbook. I remember."

Kirk shrugged, "I guess I just got used to that. I'd rather be with a book, or playing chess, or just having a conversation. At least some of the time." He had a hard time figuring this out about himself; he valued time spent with a few close friends and family, but he also couldn't stand to be alone. His ideal, he supposed, was to find one or two people who thought as he did, instead of a large group of friends. Unbidden, the image of Carol Marcus appeared in his mind. Kirk grimaced inwardly. She would have been that for him, but it couldn't last. They were both too career-motivated to slow down for a relationship. They would have both been unhappy if they had tried to force the relationship to work. Aside from her, Kirk had never found anyone, romantic or platonic, who he felt that type of close connection with. Gary was his best friend, but he had known even fifteen years ago that they were very different. He pulled his mind back to the present to pay attention to what Gary was saying.

"I still don't understand how you play chess. Remember you tried to teach me?"

Kirk laughed, "That was a disaster."

"Who are you playing with here?" Gary asked curiously.

"Oh, Mr. Spock plays. He's very good," Kirk said.

Gary spluttered, "Spock? The robot? It must be like playing against a brick wall!"

Kirk frowned. "You have a problem with my First Officer, Lieutenant?" His voice took on an aura of command, and Gary straightened imperceptibly.

"No, Captain. He's a very precise and competent officer. He's just a bit…rigid, for me, sir."

Kirk nodded, resolving to keep an eye on this, "He's Vulcan, what did you expect?"

"I don't know. But I can't believe you actually got him to spend off-duty time with you. Most of the crew says he never comes out of his quarters unless he's doing extra research. They seem to be a bit in awe of him."

Kirk thought about it and he supposed he could see the logic. He'd been a bit intimidated too, thinking he'd have to keep up Vulcan standards. Over the past few weeks, it proved to be exactly the opposite; Spock was astonishingly easy to command, while keeping up beyond perfect standards himself.

Gary shook his head, "Well, to each their own. Just warning you, Jim, I don't know if Vulcans even _have_ friends. You might be looking for something that isn't even there."

Kirk had thought about this before, but he was only looking for a friendlier working relationship, after all. He wasn't looking for a deep friendship, and was unsure himself if that was even possible. Right now, all he knew was that in the absence of any of his other friends, a few chess games with his first officer offered a quiet respite, both from Gary's whirlwind and the responsibilities of command. At least until McCoy got here, that was all Kirk had.

"Come on, Gary, let's get back to the ship. Lt. MacGyvers must be done packing those artifacts now, and it's Scotty's birthday. Wouldn't want to miss that party!" Kirk said, thinking, _see, I still like parties sometimes!_ to himself, trying to prove he was still the same person he had been fifteen years ago and this wasn't going to be a mistake.


	8. Chapter 8

"It reminds me of something out of _Alice in Wonderland_ ," Captain Kirk was saying. "Or _The Wizard of Oz_. One of those old fantastic stories. I was addicted to them as a kid." He and Spock looked at the screen, which was displaying the images of the gas giant they were surveying. The probe they had sent took remarkably vivid images – swirling clouds of orange and green gases, with huge, jaggedly-shaped rock formations just barely visible through the haze.

Spock had to admit he couldn't see the resemblance. "Captain, were not Wonderland and Oz based on Earth? They seemed to me to be much closer to Earth in their climate and appearance." Both Wonderland and Oz featured green vegetation, an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, humanoid or at least carbon-based life. There was a certain lack of imagination in humanity that Spock found disappointing; his own people were much more logical (no Vulcan could have written _Alice in Wonderland_ ) but also more open-minded as to the types of places and life that could exist in the universe.

At least they were supposed to be. They had never been that accepting of his particular type of life, but such was the lot of the mixed-species child everywhere.

Kirk looked harder at the image, "You're right. Maybe they're more Lovecraftian in nature. I can see Cthulhu rising out of that gas, can't you?" He glanced over at Spock in surprise. "I didn't know you'd read _Alice in Wonderland_ or _The Wizard of Oz_. It doesn't seem the type of thing they'd teach on Vulcan."

"It wasn't," Spock said, remembering how one teacher when he was eight had found him with one of the Oz books under his desk. The verbal diatribe, delivered in a perfectly steady tone with a purely logical argument, had been no less devastating for him than if she had screamed at him and thrown the e-reader across the room. Neither had the torment he'd endured afterward. "My mother had an extensive collection that she encouraged me to read."

"Hmm," Kirk said. Spock could tell, by now, that the captain wanted to say something about how that hardly seemed logical for a Vulcan mother, but was too polite to even start. That was something else he'd come to appreciate about Kirk in the last few weeks; he respected Spock's privacy and reserved nature. Pike had found this easy to do, not just with Spock but with everyone, but Kirk went beyond that, noticing which crewmembers appreciated openness and which didn't, and treated each accordingly. He decided to spare Kirk the suspense; it was bound to come up sooner or later, and in any case, it might be important for the captain to know one day.

"My mother is human. She married one of the Vulcan ambassadors to Earth." No need to say that Sarek was _the_ main Vulcan ambassador to the Federation; he hadn't been at the time, and further detail was unnecessary.

Kirk's eyes lit up with understanding and curiosity that he didn't give voice to. The responses Spock had met with over the years ranged from well-meaning but tactless comments to downright cruel taunting, but all Kirk said was, "That isn't in your basic service record."

"There is no option to choose mixed species," Spock answered, mentally shrugging. He'd picked the one he identified as, which had always been Vulcan.

Kirk was silent for a moment, then said, "That seems a bit unfair. I mean, besides the fact that your ship's doctor needs to know your medical history, you should just be able to write down the truth."

That was it? However much he tried to bury his human half, Spock had nevertheless wished he could at least acknowledge its existence. It would have made things much simpler with the various doctors he'd served with, if nothing else. He may never have wanted to act human, may not have looked human, but he'd never denied that half existed. To deny the truth was illogical, and besides, it would have been a denial of his mother, which was something he would never do.

"You know, that actually makes sense," Kirk was saying. "I've been wondering why a Vulcan would choose to serve in the military branch, especially someone as scientifically-minded as you are. You would have done very well in the research branch. But here you are."

Spock wondered if he could get away with telling the truth: that it was largely teenage rebellion which had landed him here. Joining the military branch of Starfleet was the only thing that would irritate Sarek more than joining Starfleet at all. He had never had cause to regret the decision, but he was aware now that he was very young when he'd made the choice (younger proportionally than humans of the same age), and had often wondered if he'd do better in the science branch than the military branch.

To Kirk, he told the other half of the truth, which was no less truthful for being only half. "I wanted to study in the field. Science ships do not go anywhere until after the initial research is done. I felt there was more opportunity for direct study in the military branch." Starfleet's military branch was more of an exploration fleet anyway, it hardly seemed worth it to join the scientific branch when there was so little difference between them.

"You wanted to be out there, on the edge of the known," Kirk said. "I was almost exactly the same. I used to sit in the fields outside my house and look at the stars and tell myself that I'd be up there one day, discovering new ones and going to far-off planets."

Spock smiled inwardly, the image of a young Jim Kirk looking up at the stars from a field turning into the image of a younger version of himself, watching the stars from the mountain range near his house on Vulcan.

Kirk chuckled to himself, "I drove my mother crazy. She used to say we would never get the harvest in if it was left up to me, I would daydream and study all day while the crops rotted in the ground." Seeing Spock's interested look, he added, "I grew up on a farm. One of the last in Iowa, I think. Anyway, I don't suppose you ever gave your parents trouble like that."

"Actually, my mother would tell you I was, in her words, 'a terror,'" Spock answered, logically enjoying the slightly startled look on Kirk's face. He wasn't sure what it was about Kirk that made him want to open up, even slightly. He had never told Pike, or anyone else in his previous crew, anything about his background, beyond what was required for his medical history. Apart from liking his privacy, Spock wanted no special treatment, either because of Sarek's standing in the Federation, or his family's exalted position on Vulcan. But Kirk's open, easy manner seemed to invite a give-and-take, a mutual respect.

"Should have known you were a rebel from the start, since you ended up here," Kirk finally said. "How about we set up the chessboard? I think we're tied for games so far."

"Affirmative. You and I have won one game each," Spock said. He remained surprised that Kirk _had_ beaten him; he'd never yet seen a human who could. He rather enjoyed the novelty.

Maybe his rebellious decision all those years ago was turning out to be the right one after all.


	9. Chapter 9

"Mr. Mitchell, that speed will bring us too close to the planet to enter orbit," Mr. Spock said, checking the readings at the science station. Gary changed the speed, but from his body language he looked like he rolled his eyes at the navigator while doing it. From the captain's chair, Kirk couldn't be entirely sure, and he didn't want to start reprimanding people for things he couldn't be sure they'd done. That was the surest way to create a paranoid, distrustful bridge crew.

Still, he was going to have to do something. The balance between his longtime friendship with Gary and his new friendliness with Spock was proving harder to find than he'd thought. At times, being with Gary while on duty was the best experience he'd ever had as an officer; laughing and spending off-duty time together as if they were back on Earth fifteen years before. At other times, though, he found himself noticing things about Gary he never had before. Like how he never had a group smaller than six around him at a time, even though Kirk would have liked a smaller group every so often. Like how Gary never seemed able to make his interest in any woman less than blatantly obvious. It was bordering on harassment, and Kirk had lost his temper at least once over it. And, thinking of that instance, Gary's inability to take anything seriously was starting to really bother Kirk.

"Captain? We have entered orbit," Spock's voice snapped him out of his reverie, and Kirk stood up.

"Good. Mr. Spock, Mr. Mitchell, with me. Scotty, you have the bridge."

There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood in the turbolift, until Spock spoke up. "Captain, it is an informality to refer to Mr. Scott as 'Scotty.'"

Gary sighed loudly, which Spock graciously ignored. Kirk shot Gary a look before turning to Spock. "I suppose it is, but it seemed natural at the time and it's stuck now."

Spock raised an eyebrow, muttering, "Illogical." Gary shot him a glare but Kirk smiled. He didn't mind Spock giving his opinion, not if he was going to be giving his other officers nicknames. Informality had to be fair to work.

Once they beamed down, there was more for Spock to do than for either Kirk or Gary. They wandered the forest, keeping Spock in sight. Gary seemed bored the whole time, a few times mentioning the card game he'd organized for later . Kirk was doing his best to politely ignore him; he didn't want to spend his whole time on a new planet talking about plans he'd already bowed out of. He'd never been much of a card player, and he knew from experience that Gary's events got loud and boisterous very quickly. He wasn't in the mood for that tonight; it seemed like he hardly ever was anymore. Getting old…

Kirk shook his head, making an excuse so he could catch up with Spock. He felt bad leaving his First Officer on his own, the way he was so often forced to. The idea was that they were supposed to work around each other; the captain beaming down while the First stayed on the bridge, and vice versa, but Kirk had known from the start that would never work, not if Spock was Science Officer as well. Besides, he felt bad leaving Spock alone while he and Gary spent time together, although he knew how little sense that made.

"So what's so interesting about this planet?" Kirk asked. Spock brightened instantly, launching into an explanation of the planet's unusual botany and soil components. Kirk took it in, formulating his report for later, feeling Gary's gaze on him as he and Spock discussed the possibilities of colonizing the planet. Kirk ignored it; Spock was pointing out the unique properties of the plant's leaves that promised to revolutionize the energy storage capacity of algae processors.

Later that night, after Kirk and Spock had spent hours writing their reports, Kirk's door chirped. He frowned, wondering if Spock had forgotten something, and opened the door. It turned out to be Gary.

"Gary? Is something wrong?" He looked a little drunk, and Kirk stepped back.

"No, I'm just tired of being second choice," Gary answered clearly. Not that drunk, then.

"What do you mean, second choice?"

Gary's expression grew angry, "You know what I mean. You and I planned this from the first few days we met, that one day you'd be captain and you would pick me to serve on your crew. We always said it would be the best, that no one would stand in our way, and how much fun we'd have…what happened?"

"What do you mean, what happened?" Kirk asked. "I'm captain, I asked you to serve with me. I'm not sure what else you wanted."

"Well, I didn't expect you to forget your best friend for the computer you call your first officer," Gary shot back. "If you had to replace me, couldn't you at least pick someone _normal_?"

Kirk's anger flared up, "Think very carefully about what you say next, Mr. Mitchell."

"Oh, I have," Gary said. "You'd rather play chess with him than cards with me, you give him preference over every other officer, you leave parties I'm holding to walk the corridors with him instead…for God's sake, Jim, how do you think it feels, watching your best friend leave you behind for someone who can't care one fig about anyone else!? You know he's only here because none of the other captains wanted him."

Kirk shook his head. _Really? This petty jealousy? This is middle school stuff._ He would have liked to believe that this was out of character for Gary, but years of evidence he'd mostly ignored told him it wasn't. Gary had always taken perceived rejection and criticism badly. It made sense that he'd see this as a betrayal, when the _Enterprise_ was supposed to be the culmination of everything they'd ever wanted.

"Gary, pull yourself together. You're here because I want you to be here, and I'm _happy_ you're here. I wouldn't have picked you if you weren't a damn good helmsman, and I thought we were having a great time together," Kirk said. "But get this straight, who I am friends with is my own business, not yours. I don't want to hear you talking about Lieutenant-Commander Spock, either to me or anyone else. He's your superior officer, and you will show him respect. Understood?"

Gary snapped to attention, but his expression remained sullen. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Dismissed." Gary left and Kirk sat down heavily. For all he'd said he was enjoying having Gary here, it was becoming less and less true. He kept remembering more times from the past where their personalities clashed, and couldn't figure out how he'd never thought of this before: that in close quarters, they might find it difficult to work together. That was without the extra addition of Spock, who Kirk was finding invaluable, both as a colleague and an acquaintance. Spock always had something interesting to talk about, not just memories of better times at the Academy. He never made demands on Kirk's time the way Gary did, he was never a disciplinary problem. He was a good listener and an excellent chess opponent. If only Kirk felt his overtures of friendship would be received, he wouldn't be so uncertain about how the three of them would work together in the future. But as it was now, Spock was only ever going to be a work colleague, while Gary was a friend, an old friend at that. But he'd be working so much more closely with Spock than with Gary. Kirk gently beat a hand against the wall. He couldn't simply end such an old friendship, nor did he want to. He knew he had more in common with Gary than with anyone else; it just didn't feel that way most of the time.

Kirk sighed in frustration. Who would have thought being a starship captain would bring him right back to high school drama?


	10. Chapter 10

During the two weeks after that mission, Spock observed that Captain Kirk appeared to be spending much more time alone than he previously had. As far as Spock could tell, he almost never made an appearance at Mr. Mitchell's nighttime gatherings, unless he absolutely had to, and he had become noticeably more distant on the bridge. In fact, from Spock's observations, he would say that the captain was cutting himself off from everyone except in a professional capacity.

One morning, while they were going over crew rotations, Spock saw Kirk glancing at him uncertainly, and stopped. "Is there something you wanted to ask me, Captain?"

"What?" Kirk jumped, startled, and looked away. "No, nothing, Mr. Spock. I was just thinking that it's been a long time since our last chess game, but that's nothing. Please, continue." He gestured towards the PADD with the crew members' names on it, but Spock put it down.

"Captain, if you would like to continue our chess games, I have no objection." They had not played in almost two weeks, and Spock found the absence...disconcerting.

Kirk seemed to be seriously considering it, but then shook his head. "No, it's all right, Mr. Spock. It seems I was wrong."

"About what, sir?"

Kirk gestured around, "About all of it, I guess. I've never bought into that 'hierarchy of command' nonsense. I always said, if I were captain, I'd be friends with my crews. I'd pick my friends for officers, if I could, and if they deserved it, of course," he added, with a quick glance at Spock, who looked back at him impassively. He did believe Kirk on that point; he knew the captain was not the sort to promote someone who did not deserve it. Only someone who was loyal to his friends, possibly because he had fewer than most people would assume, looking at him.

Kirk went on, "And when I couldn't pick my friends, I thought I'd establish friendships with my new officers. It seemed like it would be easy."

"I am not the First Officer you would have chosen," Spock finished, no inflection in his voice. He knew that. It was illogical not to admit it; most humans would have found working this closely with Spock difficult. Kirk had been doing admirably so far.

"That's not what I meant," Kirk said quickly. "Nothing's turned out like I thought. Gary's mad at me for the stupidest of reasons, our chief engineer loves his engines more than people, the ship's doctor is more than three decades older than me and our replacement isn't due for two more months."

Spock sat forward, thinking before he spoke. "Captain, it seems to me that you are, as the human phrase goes, 'at a crossroads,' between your life before the captaincy, and your life after." Kirk watched Spock interestedly, and didn't interrupt. "It naturally takes some time to adjust to a new stage of life, and what was natural for one time in life may not work as well for another."

"You're talking about my friendship with Gary," Kirk said.

Spock nodded, knowing Kirk would not discuss the details of his friendship to someone else. Idly, he wondered when he'd become so knowledgeable about Kirk's actions and thoughts. He had always been an observer, but for some reason the captain seemed to be easier to read than other humans had been. Or perhaps it was simply that he had more opportunity to observe Kirk, since they were so often working together? That had to be it; there was no other logical explanation.

Kirk thought for a moment, then said, "That may be true, but I'm starting to think there's something to this 'isolation of command' idea. Gary and I fighting like this could be detrimental to the ship and the whole crew. Maybe that's why captains maintain some distance from their crews."

"Captain, it does not mean you must be completely distant from _every_ member of your crew," Spock said. "Many of the crew seem to enjoy your presence. The atmosphere is much more relaxed than it was under Captain Pike." Whether that was an improvement, Spock was still unsure. He did know, through years of observation, that human crews seemed to work better with a certain degree of informality and casual friendships. Since the _Enterprise_ was a human ship, his own thoughts on this hardly seemed relevant. Especially since he didn't know what his own thoughts were anymore. He had always thought he could never find a captain he respected more than Pike, but after only two months, Spock had to admit that Kirk was a worthy contender for the title, given more time. Thinking back to the isolation and reserved nature of Pike's _Enterprise,_ Spock was forced to admit that on occasion he actually preferred Kirk's more informal nature. It certainly seemed to have no major negative impact on crew performance; in fact, reaction times were uniformly up and stress levels were down, compared to Pike's ship.

"Interesting," Kirk said. Spock gave him a slightly puzzled look, and the captain went on. "I thought you'd be the first to say I should pull back a little, that all these human relationships added a degree of illogic that could be harmful to the ship."

Spock sat back, thinking. "It would be illogical to deny that the addition of human relationships complicates matters. But, I think certain members of the crew would find them…beneficial."

Kirk smiled, "You're a gifted observer, Mr. Spock."

"Thank you, Captain," Spock said. "Would you like to schedule our chess game for tonight?"

"You really want to?" Kirk asked. "I know you probably weren't including yourself in those 'certain members of the crew,' but if you want to, I'd love to."

Spock realized, somewhat belatedly, that he _had_ been including himself and froze, unsure of what to say. Fortunately, Kirk seemed to pick up on it. "Wait, you did mean you, didn't you?"

Spock resisted the urge to sigh, then looked up, "Captain. Friendships on my planet are a highly personal, private understanding. We are not comfortable with the casual acquaintanceships commonly known as friendship on Earth. It requires a sense of trust that is much slower to build, but once formed, is nearly impossible to break." And devastating if and when that break occurred, but Spock left that out.

Kirk nodded seriously. "So what you're saying is, it takes longer to build enough trust with a Vulcan to base a friendship on?" Spock nodded.

"Do you think we could reach that point?" Kirk asked, rather shyly.

Spock didn't hesitate. "Yes. You are the first-" he was going to say human, but as no Vulcan had ever befriended him either, he quickly amended it, "person who I believe could."

"You've never had a friend before?" Kirk asked, his expression astonished and his tone sympathetic.

"I am an outsider on both worlds, Captain," Spock said, as if it were logical.

"That shouldn't matter," Kirk said, "But it does, doesn't it? Not here, though. I promise you that." His voice had grown steely, and his expression determined before he brightened into a smile. "Well, Mr. Spock, if you need someone to be your first friend, I'd be honored. 1900 hours, my quarters?"

"Affirmative," Spock said, leaving with the now finished crew assignments. He had never opened himself up, even that small amount, to anyone before. Strangely, it felt much more natural than he'd thought, although it was still nerve-wracking in a way. If building enough trust was going to take as long as he'd thought, he felt he had gotten off to a very good start.


	11. Chapter 11

Kirk walked through the _Enterprise_ 's corridors, smiling and nodding to the crewmembers he passed. He was proud to say he recognized most of them, and knew almost as many of their names. Five months into his captaincy, he felt that he and his crew were really functioning as a well-oiled machine. His earlier uncertainty about where he fit into the social life of the ship had gradually disappeared until he couldn't imagine himself anywhere else.

Best of all, the awkward balance he'd had to strike between Gary and Spock seemed to be over. True, they still didn't get along with each other, but they were now avoiding each other outside of the bridge. It wasn't perfect, but Kirk was so happy to have struck any kind of balance that he was willing to let it go. Besides, he knew he could trust Spock to not cause any trouble. As long as Gary stayed out of his way, Spock would be more than content to ignore him. There were worse personnel problems to have, Kirk knew that.

"Hey, Gary?" Kirk said, entering the gym.

"Lieutenant Mitchell is not here," Spock said, setting down his weights.

"Oh," Kirk said, then shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I just thought we were supposed to spar." He turned to go, then thought better of it. "I might as well train while I'm here."

Spock watched him before going back to his own training. They worked in silence for a few minutes before Kirk said, "You're not usually here, Mr. Spock."

"No, I usually wait until the gym is empty, Captain," Spock answered. Kirk nodded, inwardly smiling because he knew he was no longer included in that wish to be alone, at least not always. Spock was quite calmly lifting weights more than twice what Kirk could have handled on his best day, so he guessed it was fine for him to be here. They had come so far in the short time he'd been here. It was a friendship unlike any he had experienced, but for all that Kirk felt like he was faltering, whatever he was doing seemed to be working. They were playing chess twice weekly now, and for the last month, eating together if they had time off at the same time.

"Hey, Spock?" Kirk said, getting an idea. "Since Gary's not here to spar with me, maybe you and I can go a few rounds?"

Spock appeared uncertain, "Captain, I have three times your strength. Sparring together is unfairly balanced in my favor."

Kirk grinned, "You think I can't take you, Mr. Spock?" Spock raised an eyebrow, in confusion or exasperation, he couldn't tell. "You really think every species or person we run into is going to conveniently match my strength level? Wouldn't it be prudent for me to practice fighting someone of greater strength?"

"That is logical," Spock conceded. "However, I do not wish to cause you any injury."

"Don't worry," Kirk said. "That's what we have a Sickbay for. Don't go easy on me, all right?"

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Spock attacked and Kirk was instantly winded. He picked himself up quickly and went on the offensive, but punching Spock was like running into a brick wall. Kirk winced , holding his hand, then ducked as Spock came at him again.

Kirk thought he was actually doing all right when suddenly, Spock was behind him and then he felt himself falling. He groaned slightly as Spock held out a hand to help him up.

"Five minutes and ten seconds," Spock said. "That is longer than most of my Academy sparring partners lasted."

"Really? I wonder why," Kirk said, coughing and wincing when he felt pain in his chest.

"Captain? Are you injured?" Spock asked, sounding more concerned than Kirk had ever heard him sound before.

"I'm fine, Spock, don't worry. Dr. Piper'll fix it in no time."

"You have three cracked ribs, Captain, what on Earth were you doing?"

"Would you believe I was sparring?"

"With what?" Piper asked as he held the medical tricorder over Kirk's ribs. "I think I fixed them, but they'll be sore for a while."

"With Spock," Kirk answered as he hopped off the biobed.

"Oh, that explains it," Piper said. "I'm surprised he let you."

Kirk smiled, "I'm the captain. He didn't have much choice."

"Fair enough," Piper answered. "I suppose there's no use telling you it's dangerous?"

"None," Kirk said as he left.

"Spock, I'm fine," Kirk said for about the third time up on the bridge, wincing as he turned around too quickly. Spock raised an eyebrow at the movement, and Kirk shook his head with a grin. "I mean it. I knew what I was getting into."

Spock went back to the science station, and Gary came up to the chair on his way to the turbolift. "What was that all about?"

"Oh, I was sparring with Spock earlier and it was more…difficult than I thought," Kirk said. "Where were you, by the way? We were supposed to be the ones sparring."

Gary's face fell, "Oh, Jim, I'm sorry. I forgot. You see, I was up late with Kate from Phaser Control and I guess I overslept."

Kirk smiled and shook his head, but he was annoyed. This was going to start again? They had finally figured out a way to make everything work, how could it get ruined now? He didn't want to have to discipline his best friend, but Gary was starting to leave him little choice.

"Anyway, sparring with a Vulcan, Jim? You have a death wish or something?" Gary continued.

Kirk shrugged and winced again. "I figured I could use the practice fighting someone stronger than me. Not every species is as much of a weakling as you are." He grinned and Gary laughed as he left. But after he was gone, Kirk shook his head. If this was starting up again, right when he'd thought they were getting into a great rhythm, he wasn't sure he would be able to handle it. He'd have to see where it went, but he was finally ready to admit that choosing Gary for his crew might just have been a mistake.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N The events referred to in this chapter all took place in the episode "Where No Man Has Gone Before." Turning point!

* * *

If Captain Kirk never wanted to see him again, Spock would understand. Human emotions might not be entirely logical, but using logic to extrapolate the effects they could cause was surprisingly easy. And Spock had set himself against Kirk and Lieutenant Mitchell, or at least, what Lieutenant Mitchell had become, but he knew Kirk would see no difference between the two. It was the only decision – seeing what Mitchell would become with that sort of power was only too easy, but Spock knew even as he said it that he was probably driving Kirk away forever. It was the first time he understood what his mother had occasionally said; that logic was a harsh master to follow. It had never seemed so to Spock, but then he had never had an alternative. Now, though, he could understand how an emotional connection could cause one to rethink logic.

It didn't mean he had. There were too many people depending on his instincts, on Kirk coming to his senses and allowing what had to happen to take place. Spock kept busy, leaving Mr. Scott on duty on the bridge, and waiting for the captain to return. Which he did, all too soon, looking utterly lost. He barely seemed to notice Spock's presence, he simply let the phaser rifle clatter to the floor before asking Spock quietly if the ship was all right.

"Everything is fine ," Spock asked, pausing before saying, "What took place on the planet, Captain?"

Kirk shuddered, "I did what needed to be done. Now, I would like some time alone, please."

"Of course," Spock said. "I will remain on duty until further notice." Kirk nodded, and shutters seemed to close behind his eyes. The captain was usually an emotionally open person; Spock never had any trouble reading what was going on in his mind, but today was different. It wasn't as if he couldn't guess; grief was something Spock had ample experience observing, but the form it was taking was different. He couldn't tell how Kirk was dealing with this, or what he could do to help beyond taking on as much of the work load as possible. Some logical part of his mind insisted that it wasn't his place to interfere in affairs of human emotion. The rest of him, buried deep, wondered anxiously about the future of the _Enterprise._

The next day, Kirk arrived for his shift on the bridge, looking exhausted. It took Spock no time at all to tell the captain hadn't slept at all the night before, and he quietly called Kirk to his science station.

"Captain, you are not well. It would be logical to remain off-duty until you have recovered."

"And how do you suggest I 'recover' from this, Mr. Spock?" Kirk asked, suddenly angry.

Spock stopped, at a loss for words. Kirk went on in a whisper, "I had to shoot my best friend of fifteen years. Just because you wouldn't feel a thing about that, don't tell me about my _recovery."_ He stormed off the bridge, and Spock looked down. He'd known this was coming; that from the moment he'd suggested Gary Mitchell's death, that his fledgling friendship with Kirk was most likely over.

It shouldn't bother him as much as it did.

Later that night, while Spock was absentmindedly strumming his lyre and thinking, his door chirped. Wondering if something had happened to the ship, he went over to the door as he told it to open. Spock, in some surprise, found himself facing the captain.

"Captain," Spock said. "Is there something you need to speak to me about?"

"Well, uh, yes," Kirk said quickly. "Do you mind if I come in?" Spock stepped aside to let Kirk pass, noticing how he tried not to show too much curiosity about the very Vulcan décor of Spock's quarters. "I just wanted to apologize, Spock, for what I said earlier. I let my anger get the better of me and I 's no excuse for what I said."

Spock held up a hand, "There is no need to apologize to me, Captain. While I may not, as you said, 'feel' grief the same way humans do, I am acquainted with it."

Kirk nodded, and even though it was still too soon after the death of Gary Mitchell for any levity, Spock could tell that a weight was now lifted. They stood there in silence for a few moments before Spock realized that Kirk was probably searching for some connection with someone, after having shut himself off from everyone for twenty-four hours, and that he was the only person the captain could consider a friend onboard. It was a perfect example of irony, he idly thought as he offered Kirk a seat at his desk.

"I can't get Gary out of my head," Kirk said, proving Spock correct in his assumption. "You were right, but I didn't want to admit it. He was dangerous, but he was still Gary. You should have seen us at the Academy, Spock, I was so nervous before my first class but there was Gary right in front, laughing and joking so easily. I always wished I could be like that, you know."

Spock was somewhat taken aback; to him, this ease in human communication was what Kirk embodied. To know he hadn't always had that confidence made him see much more…human? Like an actual person instead of the Admiralty's golden captain, anyway.

"It took me a long time to get as comfortable as he was," Kirk continued. "I went from being a too-serious academic to a captain, and that's thanks to him." He looked Spock straight in the eye. "Look at how I thanked him."

"Captain," Spock said forcefully. "A captain's duty is to guard the safety of the entire ship and crew, and beyond that the Federation itself. On occasion, that requires doing something many others would find unthinkable."

Kirk thought this over, "You know, they tell us that at the Academy, that being captain or even just being on a starship might require us to do things we would find difficult at best. I don't think any of us really believed them. I know I didn't." He chuckled mirthlessly. "When I took the Kobayashi Maru, I said to myself, 'this can't happen. There's no such thing as a situation that simply can't be beaten.' So I snuck into the simulator, and changed the test scenario so I could beat it."

If he had been human, Spock was sure his jaw would be hanging open in shock. Kirk smiled, truly this time, to see his reaction. "They gave me a commendation for original thinking." Sobering, he looked down. "I guess I was wrong. There's just no way out of some situations. Or, at least, the way out is something no one should ever have to consider."

"If you had not 'considered' it," Spock said slowly. "I have no doubt that Lieutenant Mitchell would be well on his way to conquering the galaxy by now."

"I know," Kirk said. "Does it make me a terrible person, Spock, that I was able to do it? That I could make that decision and carry it through, even though he was my best friend?"

Spock paused. He didn't know what to say; there was so much more to this situation than simply good and evil, right and wrong. Preventing the deaths of billions of people was a good, killing an old friend was an evil. Which outweighed the other? Logically, the only thing Spock could think of to say was, "It makes you a good captain. You have proved yourself capable of making necessary, but difficult decisions to protect the ship and the Federation." As far as Spock was concerned, both were in good hands. "Captain, what happened was not your fault," he finished helplessly.

"I guess you're right," Kirk said. "It's just, I miss him. Even though we weren't really getting along, I still miss him."

"That is natural," Spock said. Privately, he thought that if any human could go through what Kirk did and come through unscathed, that person would not be half the captain Jim Kirk was.

"Not logical?" Kirk said, taking on a slightly teasing tone.

"Human emotions are never logical," Spock said. "That is not their nature. To expect them to be is illogical."

Kirk smiled, "Mr. Spock, you have a way of getting to the heart of a matter. Thank you, for letting me sit here and talk."

"I am…pleased, to help," Spock said as Kirk left. He would be fine, eventually. Even more surprisingly, _they_ would be fine. Kirk didn't seem to put any of the blame on Spock, and in time, he would heal. That was also the nature of human emotions, and when that time came, Kirk would be a better captain for it.

Until then, he could rely on Spock to do what needed to be done.


	13. Chapter 13

Slowly, things were returning to normal. Kirk still saw Gary everywhere; in the mess hall, in the corridors, in his seat at the helm, but each day he found himself concentrating more on commanding the ship; on carrying on instead of staying in his grief-stricken state. He would sit in his chair on the bridge, knowing that Spock's steady presence would be there for him to fall back on if he needed it, and found he needed to less and less. He went back to the informal mess hall socials, realizing that the people there had slowly become friends in addition to subordinates.

He and Spock went back to weekly chess games, at first only to do something as a distraction. Kirk would sit there in silence while Spock watched him, never saying a word. After a few weeks, Kirk began small conversations on nothing, baiting Spock gently about his moves on the board, then asking about the science department's latest discoveries. At first Spock, uncomfortable being the captain's only emotional support during his grief, would offer little to no response, but as they settled into a routine he gradually began to open up. Soon they spent more time talking than playing, and it became usual to see the captain and first officer wandering the corridors together, not as professional associates but as friends. It was getting better. Someday it might even be good. Kirk couldn't help but admit to himself that there were fewer noise complaints, fewer drunk crewmen, fewer harassment cases, since Gary's death. Mostly, he just wanted to put the whole thing behind him, and it was made easier every day.

"Spock, how were the Christmas parties done on Pike's ship?" Kirk asked one day as they made their way to the mess hall. It was one of the few days they had dinner hour off-duty together, and as easy as things were becoming, Kirk still wouldn't deny that it was better for him if he could eat with Spock rather than alone, or with lower ranked crew members he had to retain some authority around. "It's the captain's duty to throw the Christmas party, and I was just wondering how he did it." Kirk was somewhat ashamed to admit that on the _Farragut_ he gave almost no thought to how the Christmas party happened, only to how much he could enjoy it. But he'd had friends there, and no one depending on him to organize parties.

Unfortunately, Spock proved to be of little help. "I have never attended one," he answered. "I usually remained on duty on the bridge."

"Oh," Kirk flushed red. How could he have been so stupid? "I'm sorry, Mr. Spock, for assuming you would know. It is a human holiday, after all." Being around Spock was still so…new, still something he was finding his footing on.

"On the contrary, Captain, I am well aware of what Christmas is," Spock said. "It was one of the few human customs my mother insisted on. I have simply never attended one of Captain Pike's Christmas parties. Instead, I remained on duty to allow other crewmembers to attend. I will, if necessary, take on the same duty under your command, Captain."

Kirk perked up with interest. "Christmas on Vulcan? That must have been interesting. I'll figure it out. Are you sure you don't want to come, even for a little while?"

"Quite sure," Spock said as they reached the mess hall. Kirk nodded, trying not to show his disappointment. The crew had become friendly with him, yes, but they were still his crew. He couldn't relax with them the way he could with someone he worked more closely with, was closer to in rank. Oddly enough, Spock was the person he could be most himself around. The thought made him lonely; because with Spock he was never quite sure of where he stood.

Now, though, he had a party to plan.

Two days later, Kirk surveyed his party with satisfaction. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The music was lively and people were dancing. There was plenty of food and even more drinks, and everyone seemed happy. Lt. Sulu was entertaining an entire table with stories of his swordfighting mishaps. Lt. Uhura was trying to persuade Scotty to dance (and finally succeeded, Kirk noted with a smile fifteen minutes later). Yeoman Rand was giggling with Nurse Chapel and a couple of other young women at the food table. Everyone seemed happy. He supposed that was what was supposed to happen after taking command; most of the joy came from seeing others enjoy themselves instead of letting loose himself. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to think of Gary without the heavy weight of guilt. Would things have been different if Gary had lived? Probably not, Kirk was forced to admit. He would still have had to maintain some kind of command aura, while Gary would most likely always have been free to enjoy himself without worry. It seemed obvious now that they would have grown apart eventually, but all the same, he would have had someone here with him, someone he could have talked to as a friend first and a captain second. As it was, the only person left he could be like that with was on duty.

He found his way to the door, where a young woman he didn't recognize was leaving. "Are you leaving already?" He asked her, glad to find someone to talk to, and noticing that she was very pretty.

"Oh, uh, I have duty in the morning, Captain," the young woman…Dr. Noel, he remembered, a psychiatrist in the medical department, said.

"On Christmas Day?" Kirk said. "With a name like yours? I'm sorry for that scheduling, Doctor."

"It wasn't your fault. Dr. Piper made the schedule," she answered, as they both started walking toward the door. "And please, call me Helen. I didn't know you were the type to memorize your crew complement."

Kirk smiled. "It happens as you get to know your crew. It's part of my duty as captain, after all." He glanced around; no one was paying any attention to him, and he impulsively asked Helen if she wanted a drink.

Two drinks later, they were ensconced in the corner by the door. No one seemed to notice what anyone was doing, although Kirk was sober enough to know that he couldn't be seen getting _too_ intimate with a subordinate at a public party. Still, it was good to be living again, kissing a beautiful woman, with no cares beyond what might happen in the next half hour.

They were about to leave, together, when Spock walked in. Kirk almost giggled, then felt a wave of secondhand embarrassment. Spock simply looked so out of place, stiff and upright in the middle of what was turning into a raucous party. He caught Kirk's eye and came over, his bearing one of obvious relief.

"Captain, I apologize for the interruption. There was a message from Starfleet, about the Klingons."

Kirk was instantly alert, "Are we mobilizing?"

"No," Spock said. "Starfleet Intelligence believes they are not mounting an invasion fleet yet, but there have been more skirmishes at the border planets recently."

"Hmm," Kirk said. "Thank you for telling me, Mr. Spock."

Spock nodded and began to leave when Kirk suddenly remembered something. Motioning to Helen to go on without him, he ran ahead and caught up with Spock. "I forgot, I wanted to give you something." They stopped outside his quarters and Kirk ran inside, returning with a small wrapped package.

Spock looked perturbed, opening it to find a small travel chess set. He looked at Kirk, surprise written in his eyes.

Kirk cleared his throat, "It's customary on Christmas to give our friends gifts. That one's easier to travel with, if we ever went on shore leave or something." He trailed off, feeling extremely stupid. How could he think that Spock would ever want to go on shore leave, it was about the most illogical thing he could have thought of.

Spock, however, viewed it with interest and then said, "Thank you, Captain. I have nothing in return, however. I did not expect any gifts."

Kirk waved a hand, "It's all right, Spock. Consider it a thank you gift for everything you've done since Gary…"

Spock nodded, and they stood there awkwardly for a few moments before Kirk thought of something. "Spock? My friends all call me Jim. I think…I'd like it if you did too. Only off-duty, of course."

Spock considered, "Of course, if you would like, Cap – Jim." He looked shocked at his own daring, but Kirk grinned and he seemed to relax.

"So, Spock, tell me about Christmas on Vulcan. What do you use for a tree?" Kirk asked as they set off down the corridors for one of their nighttime walks.


	14. Chapter 14

A week later, Spock slipped into the mess hall after everyone else had already been there for a while. The captain's Friday night gatherings had become more and more popular until every crew member had made at least one appearance since Kirk had taken command.

Everyone except one, that is. Until now. No one noticed Spock's arrival except Lieutenant Uhura, who was the one who'd convinced him to come anyway. She needed accompaniment to her singing and Spock had agreed to play his lyre almost before he realized what he was doing.

"I'm glad you came," Uhura said, coming over to Spock. Kirk noticed her moving and his eyes widened when he saw Spock.

"Spock! You're here!" Kirk sounded genuinely pleased to see him. "I was never sure if you wanted to come so I didn't press it, but I always hoped you would show up."

Spock held up his lyre, "I am here to accompany Lt. Uhura."

Kirk's interest perked up, "I've never heard you play. In fact, I've never heard Vulcan music at all."

"One of the benefits of the Vulcan lyre is that it is easy to play either human or Vulcan music," Spock answered. It was one of the reasons he had chosen to play this particular instrument; picked during a rebellious phase in his childhood when he insisted on giving equal attention to his human heritage, much to Sarek's chagrin.

That was before he had retreated so completely into Vulcan logic to stave off the effects of living continually among humans. It was ironic, Spock thought, that his ultimate rebellion, joining Starfleet, had driven him to become what Sarek had always wanted him to be: completely Vulcan.

The rest of the crew was giving them space, but Spock took note of how the mood was becoming subdued as people began noticing him. He often had that effect on people; his natural uprightness seemed to make everyone else ill at ease. Kirk glanced at him before moving around the room, telling people to have a good time. Spock almost sighed in relief as the attention moved off of him. Uhura watched him carefully.

"We can wait a bit before we go on," she said. "I know Alex from Security wanted to do a trombone solo anyway."

She turned out to be right; and after the extremely long trombone solo, everyone had forgotten Spock was there. Uhura then motioned to Spock to join her up front, and he took his place next to her. Everyone started clapping spontaneously; apparently Uhura's solos were a popular part of these gatherings. They quieted when Spock began to play, keeping his eyes on his lyre to avoid meeting anyone's eyes. It had been a while since he'd played in public and didn't want to get distracted.

The time went quickly, and everyone kept quiet, breaking into applause when they finished. Uhura took a bow, gesturing to Spock and the applause grew. It was more gratifying than he expected; the applause of an audience. He looked up and met the captain's eyes. Kirk looked truly impressed, and Spock sat back, sure of himself. He was unable to recall why he had never done this before.

"That was excellent!" Kirk said as Spock made his way back into the crowd. "I had no idea you could play like that."

"It has been many years since I performed," Spock said modestly.

Kirk waved a hand, "No, really. You're always surprising me."

"Likewise," Spock said.

"I guess we'll never get bored," Kirk answered with a grin.

Spock had intended to leave when he and Uhura had finished, but surprised himself by wanting to stay. He and Kirk found an empty table to watch anyone else who wanted to perform; and after Spock realized Kirk had no musical training, explained the musical dynamics of each performance. Most surprisingly, people came up to him and congratulated him on a good performance.

Kirk smiled at Spock's bewilderment, "Didn't think anyone would notice you here?"

"No, I confess I am surprised by it," Spock answered. "I did not expect this response."

"You should come around more often. Plenty of people here would love to get to know you outside of duty hours."

"It would be interesting," Spock answered noncommittally, although privately he thought he might...consider it. Far from the uncomfortable feeling he always had among Pike's crew, here he felt more comfortable among a group than he ever had before. He doubted it was something he would ever grow to truly enjoy, but a few appearances wouldn't kill him, as humans said. He just didn't understand why he had never noticed his increased comfort level before, although a part of him would always remain loyal to Pike and that crew. He caught Kirk's eye, who smiled back.

 _Why_ was he so loyal to Pike? Pike had never been so happy to spend time with him, or with anyone, for that matter. Whenever Spock had to interact with any of that crew, he had the feeling they just wanted him to leave so they could get back to their lives. Pike had never bothered to learn Vulcan customs the way Kirk did. Pike had never given him the responsibilities Kirk did. He had never so much as received an invitation from any of Pike's crew the way he had from Lt. Uhura tonight. Pike's ship had been a comfortable stasis, where Spock had everything he needed to live, but nothing more. Kirk's was quickly becoming a home; something he had never considered as something he wanted before.

Spock saw it so clearly. _Kirk_ was the one who deserved his loyalty. Not that he would ever forget how Pike had been the gateway to his career, but Kirk was more than that. Kirk was his friend, the first person he had ever been able to say that about. It was as if he suddenly knew exactly where he belonged, and that was a debt he could never pay back.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought Spock out of his reverie, and he turned to see Dr. Piper standing up. "I just wanted to thank you all. I'll be leaving next week for my retirement, and I just wanted you to know that you've been a wonderful crew, and I think I'm leaving the ship in good hands." He gestured towards Kirk, who stood up, shaking Piper's hand and thanking him for his service.

Spock hadn't forgotten that Piper was leaving, but he hadn't been thinking about it. He knew their new CMO, Dr. Leonard McCoy, was an old friend of Kirk's with a somewhat unconventional record. He hadn't given it much thought at the time; Spock only went to Sickbay if he couldn't avoid it. His main concern at the time had been that McCoy had a degree in xenobiology along with his other specialties, something that had impressed Spock. He trusted Kirk to make a good decision, but now he remembered that Kirk and McCoy were old friends. Would that mean things would be different? The way they were with Gary? It was only logical that Kirk would gravitate to someone who had known him for longer, who could relate to him better because they were from the same species and background. It was surprising how disconcerting Spock found the idea. Now that he had this…friendship, this home, the thought of going back to what had once been so comforting was almost horrifying.

"I almost forgot McCoy would be joining the crew soon," Kirk said to Spock. "It feels like the ship is really mine now."

"In what way?" Spock asked. "The _Enterprise_ has been yours for seven months and twelve days."

Kirk smiled, "I know, but most of the senior crew was left over from Pike, and I was still working things out…it's a human thing, Mr. Spock, feeling like something is really yours."

"Captain, I do not understand," Spock said. "Mr. Scott and I are still remnants from Captain Pike's crew."

Kirk shrugged, "It doesn't feel that way though, does it? Feels like you and Scotty are completely part of my crew. If that isn't a presumption, that is."

Spock thought that the captain's expression meant he was gently teasing, but he wasn't sure. Besides, what Kirk was saying was eerily similar to what he had just been thinking.

The human phrase was "great minds think alike." In any case, it seemed like both of them had found where they belonged.


	15. Chapter 15

Kirk headed to the transporter room, happier than he had been in weeks. He tried not to let it on to the crew; Dr. Piper, after all, was a well-liked crew member, but Kirk had been looking forward to McCoy joining them for months. Ever since he'd met the doctor, on a routine mission to the colony he'd been assigned to at the time, Kirk knew he wanted McCoy for his CMO. They had hit it off right away, and kept in contact all the years in between.

Kirk saw Spock catching up with him and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Spock."

"Good morning, Captain," Spock responded.

"We're just in time to greet McCoy," Kirk said as they entered the transporter room.

"His record is impressive," Spock said. "He has conducted much research in a variety of fields. Surprising for someone who has had so many different postings."

Kirk laughed," True, McCoy always finds time for everything. He's the most dedicated doctor I've ever met. He's just a little…unorthodox."

Spock met the captain's gaze, "I noticed he has many reprimands on his record as well."

"Yes, well, McCoy doesn't mince words when he has an opinion," Kirk said. "And he always has an opinion. Energize."

The transporter came to life and Dr. McCoy appeared on the pad. "Jim!" he said happily.

"Bones, welcome to the _Enterprise,_ " Kirk said, shaking McCoy by the hand.

"I take it this is the famous Mr. Spock?"

Kirk smiled, remembering all the messages he'd sent McCoy, detailing his bewilderment at finding his stiff, Vulcan first officer to be a good friend. McCoy had promised to do his best to get along with the Vulcan but he "wasn't making any promises."

"Doctor," Spock said, inclining his head. McCoy made no move to shake hands, Kirk noted.

"Lieutenant Commander," McCoy said. "I read your paper on the single celled organisms of Alkaria II a couple of years ago. I was impressed, for someone who's not a biologist."

Spock bristled, although Kirk knew McCoy was teasing. He tried to catch the Doctor's eye, to let him know that Spock had only just begun to be receptive to Kirk's own gentle teasing, but failed. "I am qualified in multiple fields, Doctor. Not only is it useful in my duties as science officer, but it is expected of academics on Vulcan," Spock answered stiffly.

"Well, I've published in a fair few disciplines myself," McCoy said, starting to get annoyed, before turning to Kirk. "So, Jim, you succeeded in getting me back on a ship. Never thought I'd see the day."

Spock leaned forward almost imperceptibly before apparently thinking better of it. Kirk knew him well enough by now to know what he was thinking: how illogical it was to take an assignment he didn't want.

In a flash, Kirk realized something else: if it had just been them, Spock would have said it. He was comfortable enough with Kirk to admit when he didn't understand something, but now McCoy was here. An unknown element who they would both have to work closely with, who was, furthermore, close friends already with Kirk, leaving Spock at a disadvantage.

 _He's uncomfortable_ , Kirk thought, wishing he'd thought to take more time to introduce McCoy and what he was like. He noticed Spock's posture, even more stick-straight than it usually was. He was on ceremony, and Kirk was belatedly seized with foreboding as to what the next few years would be like, if his two closest friends couldn't get along. He should have realized they were too different; he was the only thing they had in common, which could make it awkward for him.

Damn it. It was happening all over again, and Kirk was left feeling horrible. He should have known McCoy's…excitable personality would be a bad mix with Spock's stoicism. He supposed that was something he would have to think about, being one half of the only inter-species command team in the Fleet. He only regretted that he hadn't thought about it before; Spock was quickly becoming not only an excellent command partner, but a far better friend than he'd ever expected. He wouldn't trade his First Officer for anything. But McCoy meant just as much to him, and he wished he had the words to explain that to both of them.

The next day, Kirk appeared on the bridge, meeting McCoy along the way. He had never been one to insist on strict crew roles; if there was nothing going on, Kirk didn't have a problem with McCoy being on the bridge.

"How's it feel being on the _Enterprise_ , Doctor?" Kirk asked as they entered the turbolift.

McCoy harrumphed, "It's too bright, there are no windows and nothing natural within a million miles."

Kirk smiled. He knew McCoy too well to take him seriously. "You could always go to the Hydroponics Bay. There are plenty of natural things there. I think Mr. Spock grows his own vegetables there." He remembered Spock telling him one morning that the food processors were incapable of making Vulcan dishes, and that he always kept a store of live plants in case he wanted something specific.

McCoy shot him a confused look, "Can I ask you something, Jim? As a friend? What do you see in that First Officer of yours? You spent all this time tellin' me how much he helped you out when Gary died and all I see is that damned judgmental logic!"

Kirk gave McCoy a warning look – he was dangerously close to insubordination, but then Kirk had expected that from him – and then nodded. "He was slow to open up to me. I think you came on a bit strong, Bones."

McCoy smiled at the old nickname, "Well, I'm a strong personality. I didn't mean to make him uncomfortable, if that's what you're getting at." He paused and started to laugh, "Though I _have_ made a lot of people uncomfortable over the years."

"And enjoyed every minute of it," Kirk said, starting to laugh as well.

McCoy nodded, still laughing. He had to agree, but he quickly became serious again. "I've got nothing against Vulcans, Jim. Might find them a bit difficult to be around sometimes, but that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with them."

"Most humans do," Kirk conceded. Only a few short months ago he would have been one of those humans.

"But," McCoy continued. "I don't know if I'll be able to work as closely with him as I'll have to. Science Officer is technically in charge of the medical department."

Kirk looked at him quizzically, "Is this on the record?"

McCoy sighed, "I don't know, Jim, do you want it to be? Because I don't want my inability to get along with someone to cause problems for the ship. So, yeah, I guess I'm warning you. Officially."

Kirk nodded. It was proper procedure, after all, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't disappointed. At least now he had an idea. "Do you want me to transfer you?" He looked McCoy right in the eye, letting him know that he had no intention of transferring Spock.

McCoy shook his head vehemently, "My God, Jim, no! You think I'd leave you here alone after you requested me for this position? No, I'm an adult and I'm gonna do the job I'm assigned. I'm just warning you, it might get a little…heated."

Kirk watched McCoy, a slow grin breaking over his face. "What?" McCoy asked.

Kirk shook his head, "Nothing. Just, make sure it doesn't interfere with either of your jobs. We're supposed to represent the best of the Federation's diverse population. What does it mean if you two can't get along at all?" Secretly, he breathed a sigh of relief. He always knew McCoy was excitable and not the type to go along to get along. He'd always considered it a strength, and was glad he wouldn't have to lose that, and that they'd do their best to keep it professional. That was all he asked. "If you do that, I'll know you were the right person for the job," he added, lightening his tone.

"Tell the truth, Jim, I don't know how you ever did this without me," McCoy said, and Kirk laughed as the turbolift opened onto the bridge.

"Just don't lay it on too thick, all right?" Kirk said. "I don't think that's too much to ask."

"Jim, we'll be the picture of efficiency," McCoy assured him.

Kirk wasn't so sure about that, but at least he had the assurance they would try. In any case, he'd never be bored.


	16. Chapter 16

Spock had expected many new experiences when he'd signed up for Starfleet; in fact, it was the reason he'd joined in the first place. However, nothing was as new as what he was living through right now. And none of his previous knowledge helped him with it.

He had never known anyone as annoying as the new Chief Medical Officer. Leonard McCoy was loud, opinionated, stubborn, but also easy-going with people he liked. As ready to relax as he was to take on impossible tasks, he was also exceptionally intelligent, but possessed an easy manner with everyone. Everyone except Spock, that is. It wasn't that he acted differently around Spock; it was more that everyone else seemed to find whatever it was that made him so irritating to be welcoming instead. There was a code being broadcast by the doctor that signaled comfort in spite of his irascible manner to everyone else, and soon McCoy was a common site at after-shift card games, the Friday night socials, and meals with seemingly every department on the ship.

Spock was apparently the only one who found McCoy irritating. Even more interesting were his own reactions. He couldn't seem to stop himself from retorting every time McCoy threw a remark his way. It was like someone else was taking over every time this happened; for Spock never would have dared snap at a fellow officer like that before. He found it harder to control his reactions around McCoy as well; his irritation always close to the surface. It was fascinating, or would have been if it didn't interfere with his performance of his duties.

Spock entered the mess hall one morning to find Kirk and McCoy engaged in conversation over breakfast, and went to take his usual place at the table in the corner near the monitor. It had been his usual place, anyway, before Kirk took command and Spock started eating with him. Kirk caught sight of him and looked at him quizzically, motioning for him to join them.

"Spock, we were just catching up. Bones here spent the last four years on a research base in the Epsilon system," Kirk said.

Spock, of course, knew this. Not only had he read McCoy's personnel file, but he had read several of the papers the doctor had published prior to taking the posting on the _Enterprise_ , but Kirk was obviously trying to give him an opening and he took it. "Yes, I read your paper on the effects of long-term postings on research bases in humans. It was very interesting."

"Not _fascinating_?" McCoy asked, his eyes glinting with humor. He had already noticed Spock's favorite word, and Kirk grinned into his breakfast.

Spock thought for a moment how best to respond and finally settled on, "No, Doctor, but it was well-researched, if somewhat illogically presented." He watched as Kirk choked down laughter in his coffee and McCoy spluttered indignantly. He found, to his horror, that he rather enjoyed this, no doubt a facet of his rebellious human side.

"I'll have you know, Mr. Spock, that paper won the Phlox Prize in Medicine."

"All right, gentlemen," Kirk said, holding up a hand to stop an argument. "I'm sure we could be here all day comparing prizes-"

"Well, what prizes have _you_ won, Mr. Spock?" McCoy asked.

Spock rattled them off instantly, "The Richard Daystrom Computing Prize, the Curie Medal for Excellence, the Tyson prize in Astrophysics and an advanced honorary position in the Vulcan Science Bureau." This last was a source of pride; since he had refused to attend the Vulcan Science Academy, it was very…satisfying to see them honor his work.

McCoy sat back, trying to come up with a retort, but they were all high honors, and he knew it. Kirk looked from one to the other, finally heading off the debate. "Well, gentlemen, those prizes are why you're here."

McCoy laughed, "Jim, I'm here because no other captain would take me, you know that. Too much 'insubordination'." This was only to be expected, Spock thought. The doctor's record showed a distinct inability to keep his opinions to himself, or even to word them appropriately. But, still, they had something in common: neither of them, apparently, were wanted anywhere else.

Kirk shrugged, "That's their loss, then. My gain."

The conversation trailed off until McCoy stood up and said, "Now, I have to go see about Lt. Green's broken arm. You'd think if I fixed it once…"

He trailed off as he left the room, and Kirk and Spock caught each other's eyes. "Guess we should be heading up too."

"Captain, I wish to apologize for my behavior towards Dr. McCoy," Spock blurted out. He might not have approved of the doctor's way of doing things, but listening to McCoy he felt he finally understood what made so many people, including himself, become so loyal to Kirk. It wasn't that Kirk befriended his crews, took the time to know them by name, although he did. It was that he took the time to see the unique value in everyone, even those who may not have had that acknowledged before. It was a powerful force, and Spock was suddenly almost ashamed of himself. For doubting Dr. McCoy when the captain saw such value in him. For trying so hard to keep from befriending the captain in the name of being entirely Vulcan. He didn't know of any other way to word it, and hoped the captain would understand.

Kirk's eyebrows lifted in surprise, "Spock, you don't have to apologize." He seemed shocked by the thought, and Spock wondered if Kirk truly had no idea how much the change had affected him. He thought about arguing, saying he hadn't shown McCoy the proper amount of respect, but then thought better of it. McCoy had never given him much respect either.

Kirk continued, "I know McCoy comes on a little…strong sometimes. I'm sorry about that. I should have realized you and he would clash."

Spock was speechless. He and McCoy had been arguing nonstop for days, ever since the doctor had come aboard the ship, and _Kirk_ was the one apologizing? "Jim, you have nothing to apologize for. McCoy is your friend, and a qualified physician. There was no reason not to bring him aboard."

"No, but if you were uncomfortable, I should have noticed and done something about it," Kirk said simply. "You're my First Officer, I need you comfortable in your position. And you're my friend, I don't want to put you in a position where you're not happy."

"It is not that I am _uncomfortable_ ," Spock clarified. In fact, in every other aspect, he'd never been as comfortable in his life. McCoy was the only thing that didn't fit, which made no sense to Spock's logical mind. He sensed no real malice from the doctor, only the same exasperation he himself often experienced when in McCoy's company. There was no logical reason why the Doctor should irritate him more than any other illogical human, of which he had encountered many. "I simply did not expect the doctor and myself to…oppose each other so much," Spock finally said.

Kirk laughed, no doubt at the disgruntled not-expression on Spock's face. "I have to say, Spock, I didn't know you had that much of a sense of humor until McCoy came onboard."

Spock remained silent, but he allowed the corners of his lips to turn up ever so slightly. He had noticed Kirk's enjoyment of his and McCoy's…banter, for lack of a better word, and had even prided himself on his ability to make the captain laugh. He'd surprised himself with his ability to come up with snappy retorts to McCoy's jibes. Maybe the captain was right…it was illogical to expect every relationship to function in the same way. After all, it had taken him decades before he'd found someone he was as comfortable with as Kirk. He tried to picture forcing McCoy into the reserved professionalism Pike had cultivated and dismissed the idea instantly. It would never work, but neither would attempting to befriend the Doctor the way Kirk had with them both. Clearly, arguments and banter were the way Spock and McCoy naturally worked together, and there seemed to be no stopping it.

Besides, Kirk…had faith, as the humans would say, that Spock could do it. That he and McCoy could work together, and do better things for the _Enterprise_ than anyone else in Starfleet. That meant more than any barb McCoy could sling at him, and Spock knew at that moment that he would do anything rather than let his captain down.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Just a brief interlude, the calm before the storm.

* * *

Kirk had only just entered his quarters after a full night on duty when his message alert went off. He was seriously considering simply ignoring whoever it was, since all he wanted was to go to sleep, when he saw it was his brother. He brightened instantly. Sam had been away on a research trip to the outer edge of the Federation, and had been out of communication range for the last six months. It was terrible timing, just as Jim started his captaincy, but they'd be able to catch up now.

"Sam!" Jim Kirk said as his brother's face appeared on the vidscreen. "How have you been? How was the expedition?"

"It was fine, Jim. We got plenty done, and a lot of new data to analyze. We're going to be busy for years, but forget about that, how is it being captain?" Sam Kirk was not as outgoing or open as his younger brother, but his eyes were bright with interest and Jim could tell he'd been dying to hear how things were going on the Enterprise.

Jim laughed, " All right, I won't keep you in suspense, Sam. I haven't loved every second of it, but being in command of my own ship is the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It's like she was meant to be mine."

"You sound like you're in love," Sam teased.

"Well, she is a beauty," Jim said. "But it's not just that. The people here, I really think they're the best in the Fleet. They're certainly the best crew I've ever served with."

"Wow," Sam said. "That's high praise, but it is the flagship, after all. I guess they only take the best, right?" The glint in his eyes told Jim he was teasing, then he grew more serious. "How's Gary? I know you were going to ask him to serve with you. It's just too bad he didn't make it to Commander so he could be your First Officer, right?"

Jim looked down, "I did ask him. Sam... Gary's dead. He was killed only two months ago." He didn't explain the circumstances, didn't want to admit to his brother how he'd been forced to kill his best friend.

"Oh, Jim, I'm sorry," Sam said. "I didn't know."

Jim nodded, "He died in the line of action. It was fitting for him.". He stiffened. This conversation was bringing back all the grief that he'd begun to move past. They sat there awkwardly for a few moments before Sam cleared his throat, realizing that Jim didn't want to talk about it.

"So what about your other officers? What are they like? You probably have them following you around like all the kids at home always did."

Jim smiled in spite of himself, "Well, you know McCoy. He's my Chief Medical Officer now."

"Jeez, I would have thought he'd been out of Starfleet ages ago," Sam said. "From what you told me, he never seemed all that comfortable with either authority or space travel. Kind of hard to be a Starfleet officer that way."

Jim had to laugh in agreement. "He's got a few reprimands on his record but he's the best doctor I've ever seen. I'm lucky to have him,"

Sam looked at him shrewdly. "I bet it's been nice to have a friend around since Gary, huh?"

"Well, McCoy never liked Gary much," Jim said. "But I won't lie, he's been a big help. Speaking of that, let me tell you about my First Officer."

"Did they give you some career officer who only wants to use the position to show off his command ability?" Sam asked knowingly. Jim shook his head with a smile. He'd seen too many officers like that, who only cared about their careers and not the mission or the ship, and duly complained about them to Sam

"No, he's actually my Science Officer as well,"Jim said. "Mr. Spock." He was surprised to see Sam's eyes widen.

"Spock? _The_ Spock of Vulcan? The one who wrote that paper on the single celled organisms in the Alkariai system?"

"You know, McCoy mentioned that paper too," Jim said. "Is it really that well known? I read a paper of his on holographic imaging, but Spock isn't even a biologist."

"Jim, Spock's one of the foremost if not the foremost scientific mind in the entire Federation," Sam said earnestly. "He's published more papers in more disciplines than most scientists do in one field over fifty years. He's a genius. The Vulcan Science Academy must be kicking themselves for letting him go."

Jim was momentarily dumbfounded. "I mean, I've listened to him talk about every subject under the stars, and he seems to know an awful lot about all of them, but I had no idea he was that well known."

"I'm surprised he's still serving under someone else," Sam said. "I would have thought they'd give him his own science ship by now."

"I don't think they wanted a Vulcan in charge of a human ship and the _Intrepid_ wasn't up for a command change," Jim said, glowering in anger on Spock's behalf. "Supposedly most of the other captains thought he'd be too rigid for the First Officer position on their own ships, so I'm the lucky one." He was, too. He knew that. Spock had been a godsend in every way possible and it was becoming increasingly difficult to picture his life and his command without the Vulcan's presence in it.

Sam, to his surprise, was nodding. " I've worked with Vulcans before. I don't agree with Starfleet - they're easy enough to get along with professionally but that somber, rigid worldview can feel isolating at times. How are you doing? If Spock is both First and Science Officer, you must see a lot of each other. " Sam knew that Jim was, while not as outgoing as his persona made him seem, still very much someone who needed people around, and thrived on casual comfortable relationships.

Jim frowned, "Six months ago I might have believed you, Sam. But I haven't found Spock difficult to work with at all. He's formal, yes, there's a culture barrier, but we've been getting along very well. He's a great chess player, an extremely efficient officer... honestly, Sam, I don't think I could have made a better choice myself."

Sam looked slightly surprised. "I never would have thought you'd be the one to befriend a Vulcan. It's almost unheard of, you know, Vulcans and humans actually becoming friends instead of just professional colleagues?"

Jim waved a hand, "It's almost unheard of for a Vulcan to join Starfleet's military branch."

"Sounds like Spock's just a very unusual Vulcan," Sam said, coming unwittingly close to the truth.

"He is," Jim said. "I think it was the luckiest day of my life, the day they made him my First Officer. We balance each other remarkably well."

"Soon I'll be hearing that the two of you are unstoppable," Sam said.

"The three of us. Don't forget McCoy," Jim said. "Although I don't think he and Spock are going to get along very well."

Sam chuckled, "No, they wouldn't, would they? Well, I'm glad everything's going all right. Hey, I hope I to meet your crew someday. I'd love to spend a day talking shop with Spock."

"I'm sure he'd love to," Jim said. "Logically, of course." His door chirped and he called, "Come in." Spock entered the room, then straightened in what Kirk could now tell was embarrassment or perhaps apology.

"Captain, I did not realize you were engaged. I will return at another time."

"No, don't worry, Spock. It's just my brother, Sam. We were almost done anyway. What were you looking for?"

"I simply wanted to return the book you lent me," Spock said, handing Kirk the old copy of _The_ _Odyssey_.

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Spock. What did you think?" Kirk asked eagerly. "Oh, hang on a minute. Sam? I have to go. Talk to you soon?"

"I figured as much," Sam said. "I'll talk to you soon, Jim." He signed off, and Kirk turned his attention to Spock, inviting him to sit.

"Want some tea? You know, Odysseus was always my favorite mythological character."

They launched into a discussion of the book, not noticing how much time had passed until McCoy called Kirk on the intercom, wondering why he hadn't been seen in five hours and why wasn't he in the mess hall for their lunch appointment?


	18. Chapter 18

Spock took his seat in the conference room, next to Captain Kirk. He nodded in greeting, purposely ignoring McCoy, who sat at Kirk's other side. Mr. Scott made up the last of the crew members present. If Spock hadn't already known what their mission was, that alone would have told him it was top secret in nature.

"Gentlemen," Kirk started. "We've been sent to the Delta Veridian System, a new but strategically important member of the Federation.

"Delta Veridian was admitted to the Federation only thirty years ago," Spock said, providing background. "However, their stores of lithium mines and position between the Orion Belt and the Klingon Empire mean they have become an important outpost."

"As well as a vulnerable one," Kirk continued. "Unfortunately, the political situation on Delta Veridian has never been very stable. There are deep pockets of resistance to the Federation's power. They see us as only wanting their resources." Everyone nodded. It wasn't an uncommon reaction; in the ever escalating war with the Klingons, several Federation planets had expressed similar ideas.

"They don't realize it's in their best interest for us to help them," McCoy said.

"In their view, Doctor, it is primarily in our best interest for us to help them," Spock said. He had seen the necessity of using every resource available against the Klingons, and seen too much destruction at their hands, but he did not like it and would never stop searching for another way that better served everyone's interests.

McCoy bristled but a warning look from Kirk stopped the argument before it started. Spock looked down. His...perceptions toward McCoy were still complicated. He didn't like how the Doctor brought out this argumentative, stubborn side of him, but on some level he did enjoy the mental challenge of trying to come up with constant rebuttals, an experience that had never happened to him before. He appreciated McCoy's experience; he was certainly a dedicated and innovative doctor, but he couldn't figure out how that fit in with the tornado of emotion and illogic he saw every day. Most of all, though, he regretted that their arguments interfered with the workings of the ship. Kirk had made it clear he valued both of them, as friends and colleagues, and now that Spock was finally getting used to the idea, he was making himself a problem for the first time in his career by these unprofessional altercations with Dr. McCoy. It was illogical, and un-Vulcan of him.

"Three weeks ago, an anti-Federation coup gained control of the capital," Kirk continued. "Starfleet believes most of the government officials are still alive, and our mission is to go in and negotiate for their release, and for opening of diplomatic talks with the Federation, if possible. If that fails, we are to rescue any officials we can and offer them asylum." He glanced around the room to make sure they understood. "The revolutionaries are extremely distrustful of any show of force, and so the landing party will consist of myself, Mr. Spock and Dr. McCoy. There will probably be casualties who need medical attention, and it's unlikely the revolutionaries will think anything suspicious of a Science Officer and Ship's Doctor. Scotty, you have the bridge while we're gone. If you haven't heard from us in two days time, leave the area and contact Starfleet for backup."

"Aye, sir," the engineer said as they all got up. Kirk, Spock and McCoy headed to the transporter room while Mr. Scott went on the direction of the bridge.

"We're not taking any unnecessary risks, gentlemen," Kirk said. "Nothing that will jeopardize the lives of anyone down there, or the revolutionaries will see it as a threat."

"Trust me, Jim, I have no intention of doing anything to cause any trouble down there," McCoy said.

"For once, I agree with you, Doctor. To do so would be both illogical and dangerous," Spock said.

McCoy rolled his eyes but said nothing as they stepped on the transporter pad and materialized on the planet's surface. They looked around warily. The streets were almost deserted; here and there a local hurried about their business, eying the three of them suspiciously. Kirk started to say they should head for the most conspicuous buildings, thinking those would be the most likely places to start searching for a representative when ten men with projectile weapons approached them.

"Fascinating," Spock said in an undertone. "Evidently, the use of ballistic weapons has not yet been phased out on this planet."

"It won't be so fascinating when one o'them decides to use that thing," McCoy whispered vehemently. Spock thought about saying that the presence of such weapons did not mean they would necessarily be used, but thought better off it as Kirk stepped forward.

"I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the United Starship _Enterprise_ ," he said. "This is my Science Officer, Mr. Spock, and my Chief Surgeon, Dr. Leonard McCoy."

It was clever, Spock thought, to hide his true position, which would have likely alarmed the people they needed to negotiate with. In any case, none of the armed men responded, merely motioned to the three of them to walk in front. It was very much like being escorted to an execution, Spock thought as they walked toward one of the largest buildings in the area. It was a morbid, distinctly un-Vulcan thought, and he sincerely hoped it was not an indication of what was to come.

"Captain, I hope my men weren't too rough with you," a uniformed man who was obviously the leader said as they entered. Even Spock, who by culture and nature always took people at their word, could tell that he didn't mean anything he said.

Kirk smiled insincerely. "Not at all. I'm Captain James T. Kirk. Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy."

"You're here about those traitors, aren't you?" the man said. He pointedly didn't give his name.

"We're here about the government officials, yes," Kirk said pleasantly.

Their opponent scowled. "They're no government of ours. They allowed you people to come in here and use us for your own purposes."

Interesting, Spock thought. A different wording would have stated that the planet's leaders saw the benefit to themselves and their people by siding with the Federation and acted accordingly. It was remarkable how phrasing affected the way one viewed a situation. He was pulled back to reality by the confrontation between Kirk and the unnamed officer, which was quickly escalating.

"We want to know where those officials are," Kirk said quickly, steel entering his eyes. Spock had had numerous opportunities before now to see the captain's command ability; the reason they had handed him the flagship at the age of thirty, but never had he seen the transformation take place so quickly. Gone was Kirk's courtesy and outward politeness, replaced by an assured determination that broadcast to everyone that he would let nothing stop him from reaching his goals.

"They're safe. For the moment," the revolutionary leader said, smiling at Kirk's obvious agitation. "They'll be even safer if you leave here and never come back."

"We're willing to negotiate for their safety," Kirk said. Spock, who had discussed this at length with the captain last night, knew how much Kirk hated having to negotiate with what amounted to terrorists, but then the line between terrorist and freedom fighter was thin, and even Kirk could not entirely defend the Federation's interest in this planet, which was largely self serving. But, he would let none of his own doubts interfere with his duty.

The other man smiled wider and raised his gun. "Sorry," he said, pulling the trigger. "We're not. Take their weapons and communication devices and put them on the crypt."


	19. Chapter 19

Kirk slumped to the ground, the wind knocked out of him by the force of the bullet. It was only then that he noticed the pain, a sharp agony that drove everything else from his mind. Dimly, he could hear panicked voices. "Jim! Jim, can you hear me?"

Something was wrong, he vaguely remembered. One of those voices shouldn't be panicked, should have better control than that, although he didn't remember why. And there was a mission to complete, but what was it?

Someone picked him up, roughly, and started to drag him down a corridor. The trip seemed to last forever, until Kirk was finally thrown unceremoniously into a small room. He heard muffled grunts as first McCoy and then Spock (yes, that was who they were, how could he have forgotten?) were shoved in afterward.

"Jim?" McCoy got up and knelt down next to him, pressing gently on the wound. Blood spurted out and Kirk winced. He saw McCoy's anxious expression, although the doctor tried to hide it.

Kirk pushed McCoy's hand away, coming back to himself, "Stop it, Bones, I'm all right. We need to figure out how to get out of here."

"You're _not_ all right," McCoy said, tearing off a strip of his uniform shirt and tying it around Kirk's stomach to slow the bleeding. "But I don't think it hit any of your vital organs, as long as we get out of here soon you should be fine."

Kirk nodded and turned his attention to his first officer. "Spock, report."

Spock had gone from hovering not-quite-anxiously over the captain to exploring the room they were in. He snapped to attention and said, "There are no exits other than the door through which we entered."

"And it's locked?" Kirk guessed, even though he already knew the answer.

"Affirmative," Spock said, expressionlessly. "The walls appear to be constructed of solid bedrock, and they have taken our communicators, phasers and tricorders."

Kirk sighed. Without any of their instruments there didn't seem to be much hope. "There's probably a guard outside too."

"That is a logical assumption," Spock said.

"Here, Jim, keep pressure on this," McCoy said, putting Kirk's hand on the makeshift bandage. "It's like living in the Dark Ages," he said angrily. His worried expression belied his irritated tone, and Kirk filed that away for later thought. Obviously, he was in more serious condition than McCoy wanted to let on, and if they were going to escape it would be better to do it sooner than later.

And of course they were going to escape.

He pulled himself together, "All right, gentlemen, I want options. We don't have any of our instruments. What _do_ we have?" He tried to sit up straighter and gasped in pain. Looking down, he saw the blood flow had increased and he sat back, putting more pressure on the wound. If the bleeding didn't stop, he didn't have much time at all.

Spock looked, from Kirk's perspective, as if he wanted to show some concern for the captain but didn't know how so he simply said, "The Veridian rebels will likely not want a confrontation with Starfleet. Capturing a starship command crew will cause a diplomatic crisis, but killing a starship command crew will cause a war."

Kirk nodded, "So you think they'll keep us alive, try to use us as bargaining chips?" He didn't relish being used as someone's political pawn, but if it was what kept them alive, he could use it to their advantage.

"It would be logical," Spock said.

"So far, Mr. Spock, that haven't proved themselves to be very logical," McCoy said acidly.

"Doctor, an organization seeking to avoid interference from outside their planet can have no reason to commit an act that would start a war," Spock said patiently.

"And what do you think our capture is going to do if it lasts longer than two days?" McCoy asked, his tone growing heated. He stood up and looked Spock in the eye, as if glad to have something to concentrate on other than Kirk's injury and their increasingly hopeless predicament. "Scotty will go to Starfleet and they'll come in here, guns blazing. What is that if not a war?"

"That is why it would be in the rebels' best interest to keep us alive," Spock said, the barest hint of aggravation entering his voice. "If we are still alive by the time Starfleet arrives, there is still a chance for a peaceful solution. Or, at least, for the Federation to avoid open war."

"Gentlemen!" Kirk burst out, his temper frayed by pain and stress and the urgent need to escape. "We're never going to get out of here of we don't work together. Do you think you can forget that you can't stand each other for _five minutes_ and come up with a plan?" He glared at both of them, and they eyed each other shamefully.

"Sorry, Jim," McCoy said.

"Apologies, Captain," Spock answered.

Kirk nodded, "Good. Now, as it happens, I agree with Spock. We're a powerful bargaining chip, and they'll want to keep us alive. That means they'll be coming here with food, water, maybe even medical treatment." He hoped desperately that the last one was true. It certainly would be in no one's best interest for the flagship's captain to die in captivity.

He looked at both his officers - his friends - and mentally shook his head. None of their plans would get them anywhere if Spock and McCoy couldn't keep from fighting tooth and nail every step of the way. This was almost as bad as Spock and Gary, except this time he knew they were both the right people for the jobs. But things were coming to a head, and fast, and not just because of how it would affect getting out of this cell. It was no way to run a ship, with two of the senior officers constantly fighting. When they got out of here, he'd have to do something about it.

But first, they had to get out. Nothing was as important as that, Kirk thought, glancing at the blood soaked bandage around his waist. Their window of opportunity would close soon, and they had to take it while it lasted.


	20. Chapter 20

Spock heard the gunshot, and it took a few illogical seconds for him to process what had happened. Projectile weapons were so rare that he idly mused that it was the first time he had ever seen one used.

Then he saw the captain start to fall to the ground, and his mind stopped. Dimly, he heard Dr. McCoy call the captain's name, and then realized he was asking anxiously after Jim as well. He was pulled out of his unrealized almost panic by one of the guards pushing him roughly down the corridor, and then into a small cell.

Once inside the cell, McCoy started tending to Kirk, and Spock stepped to the background, not wanting to interfere. He knew from history classes that such wounds, if not outrightly fatal, could turn deadly in a matter of hours, especially in a dank, unsanitary hole such as the one they were in. Spock turned to the walls, searching for a way out. He didn't expect to find one, but it was better than hovering over the captain while there was nothing he could do. Besides, he needed time to process what had happened, and calculate what their chances were.

Spock found, after several minutes of fruitlessly searching the cell, that there was no way out. He could tell, from the slight moans of pain coming from the back wall, that the captain was in no better shape, and he began to prepare for the worst case scenario. If Kirk should die...Spock ruthlessly shut down the distinct sensation of pain that rose up at the thought. He was a Vulcan, he should be in better control than that. If Kirk should die, he would be captain. A role he had never wanted, but one he would nevertheless carry out to the best of his ability should it be required. He refused to think about the other effects of the possibility of Kirk's death. That he'd be alone once again, the first friend he'd ever managed to make gone. Worse, he'd be in command of a crew he was still largely unfamiliar with, a role for which he knew he was unsuited for, and ill-prepared to take.

"Spock, report," Kirk called weakly from across the room. Spock came over swiftly, schooling his expression into a perfect mask of non-emotion and reported that there was no exit, and without their instruments they had little chance of making an escape. Kirk sighed, " All right, gentlemen, I want options. We don't have any of our instruments. What _do_ we have?" Spock was about to answer when he saw the captain try to sit up and wince in pain. He stopped, unsure of what his response should be. Should he try to see if Jim was all right, or was that Dr. McCoy's place? Should he go on with his report as if nothing had happened, as if he didn't care at all whether Jim was struggling to stay alive? He knew what the Vulcan thing to do was; ignore a situation he could do nothing about, especially while there was a trained physician at hand. But what was the _Spock_ thing to do? He suspected Jim would like to see some concern from someone he considered a friend, and knew he was largely incapable of providing that. He also knew Jim would never expect him to do anything he was truly uncomfortable with. It was all so contradictory, being friends with humans.

Perhaps that was why he snapped at McCoy more than he usually would have, when the doctor began arguing with him about whether the rebels would keep them alive. The knowledge that escape would prove next to impossible, that the captain would continue to weaken until there was no way to save his life, made Spock absentmindedly start yet another circular argument with Dr. McCoy, when they could least afford it. It was almost a relief when Kirk snapped at them both to stop. Spock apologized, ashamed that he had been caught behaving in such an un-Vulcan, illogical way. McCoy did the same, and from there the three of them kept to themselves, waiting to see if the rebels did indeed come to deliver food as Kirk and Spock thought they would. The only movement was from McCoy, who every so often checked the captain's bandages. Spock watched him, noting that the doctor looked less happy each time. Clearly, something was wrong.

"Doctor, tell me. The captain's condition?" Spock asked, almost shyly, for him. McCoy eyed him strangely.

"You're speaking to me now?" Without waiting for a response, the doctor sighed heavily and continued, "It's bad, Spock. It wouldn't be if I could get him up to the ship. It didn't hit any vital organs, and it's only a matter of some simple surgery to remove the bullet and repair the damage. But down here...it's anyone's guess." Spock didn't trust his ability to read human emotions very much, but he thought he could detect something new underneath all the bluster. A willingness to put aside their argument for the captain's sake.

"We must put every effort into escaping this cell," Spock said. "Not only will our mission fail, but the captain will die if we do not." In Kirk's incapacitated state, it fell to Spock to make the command decisions. He half expected McCoy to argue, but the Doctor merely nodded.

"I take it that you will follow my orders should an opportunity present itself?" Spock pushed. He had to know he could count on McCoy if necessary; logic told him they would not make it out of this except together.

As expected, the doctor bristled, "Now, Mr. Spock, I may not agree with everything you do, but I'm no fool. If you have an idea that'll get us out of here, I'm all for it." He glared at Spock, as if daring him to come up with a foolproof plan on the spot.

Spock, however, resisted the urge to sigh and settled down on the ground. "Unfortunately, Doctor, there is no logical way to escape this prison." He had to work hard not to give in to the apparent lack of hope. Dependence on such an emotion was illogical, but Spock could not deny the very real help it provided during situations such as these.

"So find something illogical," McCoy said. "We can't just sit here waiting for them to come feed us. It might never happen!"

"Unfortunately, Doctor, you are correct," Spock said. "And as for 'illogical' methods of escape, what would you suggest?"

McCoy sighed, sitting down next to Spock, "I don't know. Do you always have to be so literal? I'm just trying to think outside the box a little. It's what Jim would do."

Glancing over at the captain, Spock noticed that he seemed to have fallen asleep. He could hear the human's breathing from here, otherwise he would have been concerned. As it was, he was merely glad that the rest might do Kirk some good. "Captain Kirk is human. I am not," he said to McCoy.

"Spock, I'm your doctor. I've read your medical files. I know that's not entirely true," McCoy said. "And even if I didn't know that, do you think I haven't seen anything that goes on here? You care about Jim. I've seen that much."

Spock raised an eyebrow in surprise. He knew McCoy would know about his mixed heritage, as the chief medical officer, it was his duty to know the medical histories of the crew. But that he'd noticed Spock's burgeoning friendship with the captain was...unexpected. It indicated that McCoy had more perception than he let on.

McCoy grinned, "Surprised you, didn't I? I have dual degrees in xenobiology and psychology. Didn't take me long to figure out there was more to you than that 'I am Vulcan' front you put on. Besides, Jim's been talking about you for months. Saying how easy you made the transition, what good company you were." Spock looked at McCoy in nearly open astonishment. Jim had _said_ that? McCoy laughed, "Now, I don't see it, myself. But I do see that you're not a machine, Mr. Spock. You don't have to live by emotions, but acknowledge their existence. You might find it helpful someday." He got up to go check on Kirk, and Spock followed, watching as McCoy changed the bandage. The wound was still bleeding, although not as severely. McCoy grunted and made a face at it, obviously displeased with what was going on.

"Doctor," Spock said quietly. "On my world, friendships are formed slowly, with a building of absolute trust. The captain is my...only friend."

McCoy looked up at him, tactfully saying nothing about this admission beyond, "I'll do what I can for him, Spock. You work on getting us out of here."


	21. Chapter 21

Hours passed, with no word from any of their captors. Every so often, Kirk asked Spock how long it had been. After the third time, when the answer was eight hours, McCoy finally snapped at them to stop. Spock fell silent instantly, watching the doctor in mild curiosity.

"Isn't it bad enough we're stuck here without a running countdown until we die of thirst?" McCoy continued, glaring at Spock. Then he caught Kirk's eye and looked sheepish. "Sorry, Jim."

Kirk let it go with the barest nod. Their tempers were all on edge from lack of food and water, and McCoy wasn't the most patient person even under the best circumstances. Spock, however, rose to the bait. Kirk suspected it was more to have something to do than any real desire to argue the point, and found himself almost grateful for the diversion.

"Unless we know how long we have been here, Doctor, we have no way of knowing when the _Enterprise_ will leave orbit, and therefore, no way of knowing when to expect rescue," Spock said. "I must also point out it is extremely unlikely that we will die of thirst in that time."

"Humph," McCoy grumbled. "Maybe you won't. Darned desert physiology."

"While it is true I am able to last longer without water than a human, as a doctor, I am sure you are aware of the length of time a human can survive without water, and that it is more than the three days it will take for the _Enterprise_ to return with reinforcements," Spock said sardonically. His eyebrows flew up in smug satisfaction as McCoy glared at him, trying to find a hole to poke in the logic. growing exasperated when there was none.

Kirk listened to them idly. It distracted him from the pain, and the seeming hopelessness of their situation. He let his mind wander, hoping that it would land on a plan, but after a while he found himself concentrating more and more on his friends. Gradually, he realized that something was different. He knew McCoy, his emotions always close to the surface. Right now, his usual annoyance with Spock wasn't there. They were arguing, yes, but more as a matter of course than anything else, something to pass the time. The tone was...friendlier, more like banter. Spock, too, seemed much more comfortable with the dynamic, coming back with quicker and better retorts than he had before, even on the _Enterprise._

Kirk motioned McCoy over, ostensibly to check his bandages. "Bones, what's going on with you two?"

"Oh," McCoy said. "Well, Mr. Spock and I had a little talk. I was wrong, Jim. Not about everything, but about enough. He's a good friend to you, somewhere underneath all the Vulcan control." Kirk stared at McCoy in open amazement and the doctor raised a warning hand.

"He still annoys the hell out of me, so don't you tell him I said anything."

"Believe me, I won't. You'll never live it down," Kirk laughed, flinching a little when the movement strained his wound. To distract himself, he asked, "What is it with you and him, Bones? You have a degree in xenobiology. I didn't think you had this many problems with Vulcans." He was genuinely curious; the McCoy he knew would never think ill of anyone for purely specist reasons. He'd never seen this side of McCoy before.

"That's the thing, Jim, I don't," McCoy said earnestly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Spock wasn't listening. "I'm terrified of them, normally. You know logic and I have never gotten along."

Kirk smiled at the admission; he had to agree with Spock that McCoy wasn't the most logical person ever, although in his view that was the doctor's strength, as logic was Spock's. If they could only work together they'd be a formidable team, and he realized suddenly that they would be _his_ formidable team. The thought was enough to give him hope that they might eventually make it out of here, although first he had to make sure this wasn't a freak event and they were actually capable of working together.

"But there's something about him in particular that just _irritates_ me," McCoy continued. "I don't know what it is, but he just gets on my nerves with all that damned logic."

"Well, Bones, you can hardly expect him not to be logical," Kirk said reasonably.

McCoy sighed, "That's not what I mean. I'm not expecting him not to be logical. But I've studied Vulcan culture, and I've met full Vulcans who are more in tune with their emotions than he is. That's not healthy, Jim, especially not for someone who's half human. Vulcans don't deny the existence of emotion, they just don't let it run their lives."

"The way we do?" Kirk asked teasingly.

"You know what I mean," McCoy said. "He's fighting a losing battle against himself, and he doesn't have to. It's perfectly natural for his emotions to be a little closer to the surface, but he's not letting them even exist. He's tryin' to be more Vulcan than Surak!"

Surak, Kirk thought, from what he knew about Vulcan's legendary philosopher-leader, would probably have told Spock that emotions served their own logical purpose, otherwise they wouldn't exist, and that if controlled, they could be valuable. He supposed Spock was just stubborn, itself ironically a human trait.

Kirk broke out of his reverie, finally saying, "You really should have gone into psychiatry as a practice, you know." McCoy seemed to have gotten the nature of Spock in far less time than it had taken Kirk. He looked over at his First Officer, thinking that his life must have been far more lonely and difficult than he'd ever let on. Not that he'd let his sympathy show - he knew it would be unwanted and make everything awkward.

"Yeah, and then where would you be?" McCoy said, checking on the bandage. More blood oozed out and Kirk sat back, suddenly dizzy.

McCoy seemed on the verge of panic when something unexpected happened. The cell door opened.


	22. Chapter 22

Spock swung into action instantly. He moved behind the guard and had him by the neck before he could say anything.

"Spock, wait," McCoy called. "We'll need someone to show us the way out."

Looking over the guard's shoulder, Spock saw that McCoy had hoisted the captain up and was supporting him, ready to leave. Spock was impressed by the doctor's quick reaction; he must have anticipated what Spock was going to do and acted accordingly. All the same, he said, "Fortunately, I memorized the route we took to this cell." He nerve pinched the guard, seeing McCoy try to school his shocked reaction. Clearly, he'd never seen it done before. Spock quickly took the guard's gun as well, hoping he wouldn't have occasion to use it. The thought of using such a barbaric weapon was almost sickening.

"In that case, you want to help me carry him?" McCoy asked.

"Bones, I'm fine," Kirk said weakly.

"Captain, the doctor is correct," Spock said quietly. "It will be much more efficient if I assist in supporting you." He took half of Kirk's weight on his shoulder, and the three of them moved awkwardly into the corridor.

"Oomph," McCoy grunted as Kirk slumped farther down between them. Spock was alarmed, but McCoy simply said, "I'm putting you on a diet the minute we get back to the ship "

"Are you calling me fat, Bones?" Kirk asked with a trace of his old grin. Before, Spock would have been shocked that McCoy was joking such a serious situation. Now, he realized that McCoy's banter, far from making light of what was going on, was a way of keeping the captain engaged and awake. Knowing its purpose, it even seemed logical, on a very human sort of way. There would be far more danger for all three of them if Kirk were to slip into unconsciousness.

They moved on in silence, at a pace so slow even Spock found himself growing impatient. They still had thirty six hours until the _Enterprise_ left orbit, but they still had not found their communicators and couldn't contact the ship even if they wanted to.

Besides, the captain didn't have thirty six hours. Spock could see that the gunshot wound, which had stopped bleeding in the relative relaxation of the cell, had opened again. He could feel the constant sharp pain of it, and the lightheadedness and exhaustion that came with loss of blood, even through the captain's shirt.

"Doctor, we must hurry," Spock said, allowing a note of urgency to enter his voice. Jim's consciousness, so near to the surface with the constant pain and discomfort of movement, had just slipped further away. There was no need to give into panic yet, or the Vulcan equivalent, but left alone, it represented the first step toward death. "The captain..."

McCoy, thankfully, took him at his word, gently shaking Kirk's shoulder. "Jim? Jim!"

"What? Are we out?" Kirk asked groggily. McCoy breathed a sigh of relief and they started moving again

"Almost, Jim. Just hang on. Spock and I'll handle this." He looked over at Spock. "If you hadn't caught that we'd be stuck here now, trying to shake him back into consciousness. How'd you know?"

Spock paused, wondering how much to reveal to this man, who had almost been an enemy for so long now. Finally, he reasoned that anyone with a xenobiology degree was likely aware, to some extent, of Vulcan mental abilities, and said, "I...felt it, Doctor."

To his relief, McCoy didn't react the way other humans he'd discussed this with had. Spock vividly recalled the one time he'd dared to use the mind meld to heal a security officer who had been subjected to Klingon mental torture. The meld had been successful, but the nurses on duty had been wary around him afterward, although they were sworn to secrecy about what they had witnessed. McCoy simply said, "Hmm, should have realized. Touch telepathy, right?"

"Yes," Spock said, shifting more of Kirk's weight onto his shoulders as he saw McCoy start to stumble.

"Useful skill, that," McCoy said. "I've never seen it used before."

"We are...somewhat secretive about it," Spock said bluntly. In addition to being a highly private people to begin with, it was believed that if too many outsiders knew the extent of Vulcan mental abilities, they would soon be seen as a threat.

"Hmmph, that's stating the obvious," McCoy said. "Which way?"

"To the right." Spock was starting to feel the increased air flow that meant they were closer to the surface and illogically, was encouraged, even though they still did not have their communicators."

"I know plenty of humans who wouldn't be happy to hear of Vulcan mental powers," McCoy said, a note of disgust in his voice. "As long as you don't go rooting through _my_ brain for no reason, you can have whatever powers you want."

"To do so would be an ethical breach of the highest order, Doctor," Spock answered. "No Vulcan would do such a thing, not without consent."

"That's good enough for me," McCoy said with a trace of the cheerful smile he always had for Kirk. It struck Spock that it was the first time he had ever been the recipient of it. It also struck him that this was the longest he and McCoy had gone without snapping at each other, and he wasn't sure if it was the seriousness of the situation or something else that was responsible for it.

They reached a heavy door that Spock recognized as the entryway into the tunnel system they had just left. He helped McCoy settle Kirk gently on the ground before turning his attention to the keypad.

"Can you, I don't know, hot wire it or something?" McCoy asked. "They're bound to realize we're missing sooner rather than later."

Spock had also considered this, and so did not respond except to say, "'Hot wire,' Doctor?"

McCoy flushed, "It's an old auto term from earth. Means crossing wires together when you don't have the key or code to get into something." Seeing Spock raise an eyebrow, he said, "My grandfather collected old automobiles, ok?"

Spock resisted the urge to shake his head at such an illogical hobby - why collect such vehicles when they had no use anymore? - and said, "I can, as you say, 'hot wire' the door, but it seems likely they will be waiting for us on the other side."

He looked down at the captain, who stirred himself, trying to take command. "We have to find the communicators, and the phasers, if we're going to have any hope of getting out of here." He slumped back, the effort of talking too much for him.

"The captain is correct," Spock said, pushing down the mild anxiety that arose as Kirk seemed to lose consciousness. McCoy checked Kirk's pulse and nodded up to Spock that he was stable for the moment.

"Out of all of us, you're most likely to make it," McCoy said.

"I would agree, Doctor," Spock said, as he finished hijacking the door controls and hoisted the borrowed gun up. "Stay here with the captain. I will attempt to clear a path; if anyone finds you, follow me out. Otherwise, I will return in no less than fifteen minutes." If he didn't find the communicators in that time, they'd have to find another way to contact the ship.

McCoy, to Spock's surprise, didn't argue, simply nodded and moved himself and the captain back as Spock opened the door.


	23. Chapter 23

Kirk struggled to stay conscious, to try and be aware of where they were and what they were planning to do next. He knew it would only make their escape more difficult if Spock and McCoy had to physically carry him, but he was finding it harder and harder the longer they were on the move. He guessed that he had long ago lost enough blood to need at least one transfusion, and couldn't last for much longer.

"Bones, how close are we?" he asked McCoy, with a slight note of urgency. Spock was nowhere to be seen, and Kirk began to wonder what he had missed. He hadn't remembered losing consciousness, but he knew he was off his game, and he wondered if had been out of it for longer than he'd thought.

"We're at the exit off the tunnels," McCoy whispered. "Spock went to see if he could find our communicators." He looked around the corners as he spoke, obviously nervous at being left alone with an injured man in the rebel stronghold.

Kirk was instantly worried. "What? How long has he been gone?" Separating in a situation like this was a bad idea; any number of things could happen to either party while the other was completely unaware. Then he saw the gun concealed behind McCoy's back. Spock hadn't left them totally defenseless.

"Jim, relax," McCoy said forcefully, laying a hand on Kirk's shoulder.

Kirk looked up at him in disbelief. "It's a little hard to relax in the middle of a prison escape."

McCoy chuckled, "Yeah, I suppose it is. But Spock's only been gone five minutes. If he isn't back in ten more minutes, we're supposed to find another way out.'

Kirk nodded, "Good plan."

"Don't thank me, it was all his idea. I'm just following along," McCoy said absently, checking Kirk's pulse and scowling when it wasn't what he wanted it to be.. "Thing is, I can't even be annoyed at him for it. It's a damn good plan."

Kirk laughed then coughed as the movement turned painful. "You two make quite the team, you know."

"Humph, don't get used to it," McCoy grumbled, but Kirk knew him too well to take him seriously. There was something about this mission that seemed to be turning them into a team as they lived it.

Kirk leaned back, not wanting to let on how much talking was sapping his energy. McCoy kept a careful watch for soldiers, but none appeared. Fortunately, before too much time had passed, Spock returned.

"I was unable to find our instruments," he said without preamble, looking them both over. "Did anyone see you?"

"No one passed by the whole time you were gone," McCoy informed him.

Kirk nodded, sitting up straighter. "Well, at least they didn't catch you." He noticed that the pain seemed to be gone, and vaguely thought that he should be concerned about that. Wasn't it a sign of something bad, along with the lightheadedness?

"There appeared to be few soldiers in this section of the building," Spock said. Was that relief Kirk saw in his expression, to find the captain still so functional? It couldn't be.

"However, I did overhear a conversation between two young aides," Spock continued, "and it appears that there is a communications hub in one of the side tunnels we passed."

"Spock, if we were to find that, could you modify the equipment so we can contact the _Enterprise?_ " Kirk asked, looking shrewdly at his First Officer. He suspected they'd had the same idea.

"It should not be too difficult," Spock said, proving Kirk correct.

"You mean we have to go _back_ down there?" McCoy asked.

"Good, then let's go," Kirk said decisively, ignoring him and starting to get up. Spock and McCoy both ran over and hoisted him up. Kirk didn't want to admit it, but he was grateful for their quick reflexes. His head swam so badly on getting up that he wasn't sure he would have made it a step without collapsing.

"Jim, if you do not allow us to assist you, your injury will become even more severe," Spock said quietly. Kirk nodded, letting his exhaustion show for the first time. Spock could clearly tell how badly off he was, and trying to hide it would only make everything harder.

"Still, we need to reach the _Enterprise_ before she leaves orbit," Kirk said, trying to get started again but McCoy stopped him, forcing him to take it slower.

"Do as he says, Jim, you know Vulcans never lie."

Kirk could have sworn he saw the Vulcan equivalent of a half smile cross Spock's eyes before they stopped abruptly outside a door similar to the one on their cell, although it couldn't be the same one. They were in a completely different part of the tunnels.

"Spock, what is it?" Kirk asked. He glanced around quickly, ignoring the way his head and wound protested. They couldn't get caught here; they would have no hope of reaching the _Enterprise_ if they did.

"I thought I heard something," Spock said slowly, tilting his head to the side. Kirk stayed quiet, knowing that Spock wouldn't be mistaken about something like that.

"Spock, what if it's the officials we were sent after?" Kirk asked.

"My thoughts exactly," Spock said. He leaned closer to the door, listening intently. Kirk and McCoy watched him, unable to hear anything until Spock stepped back. "There are multiple people in there."

Kirk and McCoy looked at each other. "We can't leave them even if they aren't the government officials," McCoy said decisively, taking Kirk's weight onto his own shoulders so Spock could investigate further.

"I agree," Spock said, before Kirk could find a response. He smiled at the unprecedented sight of the two agreeing with each other.

"It appears to be a simple combination lock," Spock said as he bent over it, listening for the tumblers. "That is logical, given the weaponry this planet uses."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, Spock, how can you hear anything in that lock while you're yammering all over the place?" McCoy burst out.

Spock looked over at him in patient bemusement. "As you are fond of saying, Doctor, my Vulcan ears are superior to those of humans."

McCoy rolled his eyes and grumbled inaudibly, but even Kirk could hear the lock click. "Spock, you got it!" Inside the cell were about ten older, stately men, who blinked in the sudden light, obviously afraid that it was the rebels.

"Can you help us?" One of the men finally asked, standing up when he didn't recognize them. "We were the ruling council on this planet until a few weeks ago."

Kirk smiled, hauling himself up on McCoy's shoulder. "We can. I'm Captain James T. Kirk of the USS _Enterprise._ We were sent here to find you."


	24. Chapter 24

Spock quickly ushered all the government officials out of the cell, making sure there were no soldiers heading their way before leading the group down the hall. Turning to the man who seemed to be the leader, he said, "We are searching for a communications hub somewhere in this section of tunnels. Once there, we will be able to contact our ship and grant you asylum. Do you know where it is?"

"No," the man said. "But Alliel might. He was Minister of Planetary Communications before the revolt."

"I do," said a younger men, stepping out of the group and taking the lead. "Follow me. We may not have much time - from what I've been able to figure out, the rebels are using the place to coordinate their plans." He hurried down the corridor, and Spock followed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure McCoy and Kirk were keeping up. So far, they were, but Spock could tell from the worried expression on the doctor's face that Kirk was not doing well. He forced himself to concentrate on the mission at hand; none of them had any chance if they failed to contact the _Enterprise._

"Here it is," said Alliel, stopping outside another door. Spock opened it and entered to find a room full of what looked like old fashioned radio equipment.

"Spock, you sure you know what you're doing?" McCoy asked, coming up behind him.

"Affirmative," Spock answered, looking through the equipment. "Please keep watch, Doctor." He handed McCoy the gun, just in case. "And look after the captain," he added quietly.

"You don't have to tell me how to do my job, Spock," McCoy snapped. Then, he caught sight of Spock's face and nodded seriously. "Don't worry, Spock. I will."

"Vulcans do not worry, Doctor." He was merely concerned about the well being of a capable command officer, and ensuring that the other crewman under his command performed his duty. It was logical, surely?

McCoy rolled his eyes, "Don't worry, my round human ears." But he took the gun and went to stand by Kirk near the door. Satisfied, Spock turned his attention back to the communications devices. They appeared similar enough to devices he had studied in his technological history survey at Starfleet Academy, and set to work modifying the frequencies so the _Enterprise_ would hear them.

"What frequency does your ship pick up?" Alliel asked.

"The _Enterprise_ can pick up either high band or low band frequencies," Spock said. "However, our communications are usually transmitted through subspace, to allow quicker communications across greater distances."

Alliel nodded, "That makes sense. Can you modify this to send through subspace?"

"No," Spock answered. "However, we are close enough that the _Enterprise_ should be able to hear us through radio frequencies." He knew they would be monitoring all planetary communications, to see if there was any change in the political situation, and was counting on that to make it through to the ship

Finishing the modifications, Spock picked up the microphone, "Starship _Enterprise,_ Starship _Enterprise,_ do you read me? This is Mr. Spock. Repeat, this is Mr. Spock."

There was no answer for a few minutes, and Spock moved on to the next frequency. He heard a few bars of music and realized it must be one of the planet's radio stations. Moving onto the next one, he repeated the message.

This time, through the static, he heard a response. " Mr. Spock? This is a very high frequency, " Lt. Uhura said. "Is everything all right?"

"Please inform Mr. Scott that we have found the government officials, but the captain has been injured. We require immediate beam out," Spock said.

Scott must have taken over the intercom, because his was the next voice Spock heard. "I canna get a lock on ye, Mr. Spock."

Spock inclined his head slightly, the only concession he would give to the human urge to sigh. "We are underground. We were captured by the rebels and our communicators were taken, as were our phasers. We were forced to find alternate means of communication," he explained.

"Well, ye'll have to get aboveground if ye want me to get a lock on ye, Mr. Spock," Scott said.

"Acknowledged," Spock said quickly. Turning to the group, he continued, We must make our way back to the building from here before our ship can beam us up."

They started to grumble, and one official said under his breath, "I don't believe they have a ship."

"Now that's enough," McCoy snapped. He was already standing up, with one arm around Kirk's shoulders. "We came here to get you out and we're _goin'_ to get you out. Here, Spock, help me with him."

Spock took half of Kirk's weight as they made their way back down the corridor. The captain smiled wanly at him but said nothing, and Spock could tell from how much more he slumped against his two friends how much worse off he was. "Thank you, Doctor," he said.

"Don't thank me yet, we're still not out of here," McCoy said, his voice strained with the effort of supporting the captain for hours.

The trip back was almost silent. Everyone was too exhausted to do much more than keep putting one foot in front of the other. Finally, after what seemed, illogically, like hours, they reached the heavy door that marked the entryway to the building.

Spock helped McCoy settle Kirk on the ground and went to open the door. Opening it a crack, he saw lines and lines of soldiers marching past. He stepped back quickly. "We will have to wait until they pass." They leaned against the rock wall, listening to the sounds of marching.

"Spock. Spock! I'm losing him," McCoy whispered urgently. Spock moved directly along the wall until he was next to Kirk and McCoy. The captain had finally succumbed to unconsciousness, his head lolling onto his shoulder. He was much paler now than he had been even before, and Spock knew he has lost too much blood to go on without medical attention.

"His pulse is weakening," McCoy said worriedly. "And his breathing is getting shallower." Checking the captain's pulse for himself, Spock noted it was indeed slower and fainter than it should be. "I've been tryin' to do something for him, but I can't as long as we're on this blasted planet!" McCoy said, letting his frustration through. Spock ignored him, unable to find a reason not to give in, even slightly, to a small form of panic. Everything he had told himself before, that he would captain the ship to the best of his ability and carry out the mission, had suddenly flown out of his head, replaced by the all encompassing thought that he didn't want Jim to die. He wasn't ready to lose the tenuous friendship they were building, the place at Kirk's side he was beginning to suspect was where he belonged. On top of that, he certainly wasn't ready to be captain of a crew of humans. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't logical to think this way. He didn't care.

He placed a hand gently on Kirk's shoulder, feeling through the torn uniform shirt how faint the captain's consciousness was. He struggled to bring his own trepidation about taking command, his desperate hope that Jim might survive, under control. He squeezed gently, the only way he think of to show concern and still maintain his Vulcan aura and stood up, prepared to take command, or at least to fake his way through it.

A deep breath caused him to look back down. Kirk had woken up and looked around weakly. "Spock? Did we find a way out?"

Spock allowed his features to soften slightly, "Almost, Captain." He took a look outside the door, and seeing all the soldiers were gone, motioned for everyone to leave the tunnels.

"Without that radio equipment, how are we gonna contact Scotty and let him know where we are?" McCoy asked.

"He knows we're coming, right?" Kirk said, doing his best to support as much of his own weight as he could, but starting to slip.

"Yes, Captain. If we are fortunate, he will lock onto our signals-". Before Spock had even finished his sentence, the sights in front of them blurred, a trademark sign of the transporter, and they were materializing in the _Enterprise_ 's transporter room.


	25. Chapter 25

Kirk didn't remember materializing in the _Enterprise_ 's transporter room. He had vague recollections of chaos, of people yelling, but he didn't remember anything concrete until he woke up in Sickbay.

It must have been hours later. The lights were dimmed, to signify ship's night, and Kirk was the only patient. Sitting up, he noticed that there was no longer any pain. He pulled up the Sickbay tunic, seeing a scar, but no open wound. McCoy must have started the surgery the instant they were back on the ship. Kirk still felt weaker than usual, but he knew that was probably due to blood loss and he would recover quickly now that he was back on the ship.

McCoy himself seemed to be gone, and Kirk was about to page the nurse on duty when the door opened and Mr. Spock walked in.

"Spock! Come on in," Kirk said.

Spock picked up the desk chair and moved it to Kirk's bedside. "I simply wanted to give in my report and update you as to the ship's status. If you are sufficiently recovered, of course."

Kirk waved a hand, "I'm so bored right now, even reports sound exciting. You finished yours already?"

"It was an uneventful trip back. We are nearly eleven hours journey from the nearest Starbase. The Veridian officials have all passed a preliminary medical exam. In spite of their captivity, none of them suffered any long term effects, and they have been shown to guest quarters. Aside from your own surgery, very little happened," Spock finished, then added, "I am...quite pleased to see your condition has improved." He said this quickly, as if rushing through it would make the admission easier to get through. Kirk could have sworn he saw a hint of greenish flush on Spock's cheeks, although it could have been the lighting.

"I have you to thank for that. You and McCoy," Kirk said with a smile. "He said you were an excellent commander."

Spock raised an eyebrow, perhaps surprised that McCoy would have said this about him, then continued. "I found him an asset as well." He looked so perturbed saying this that Kirk nearly laughed aloud.

"However," Spock continued, "This mission made it clear to me that I am not yet ready to command a human crew. I believe it is logical for you to request a new First Officer."

Kirk sat up, "Spock, what are you talking about? You've been doing fine - better than fine. What's this about?" As far as he could tell, this had come out of nowhere. Spock had never mentioned any difficulties in command, although he also remembered belatedly that he hadn't given any solo commands to Spock. "Is this because you've never commanded a solo mission? Because that's not a judgment on you, Spock. I like to be a hands-on captain, and usually you and I have to go on these missions together anyway. Side effect of your having both positions, I guess."

"No, Captain, I agree that is a logical reason, and it is not because I have not led a solo mission under your command. I never did under Pike's command either," Spock said. "I realized that I became slightly...rigid while in charge on Delta Veridian. I was concerned only with the most logical path to take, and it took McCoy to remind me that a good commander needs to consider the illogical as well. I am not capable of that."

"Spock, what does it matter?" Kirk asked. "You got us out of there, _you,_ playing to your strength: logic _._ Maybe McCoy helped you out a little, but Spock, that's why _I_ have him aboard. And you. You think I can do all this alone? That's the point of a First Officer."

Spock didn't look as if he believed Kirk, but said, "Perhaps. However, there is another, more personal matter." He stopped, and Kirk had to nod expectantly to get him to continue. "While you were...injured, I was unable to compartmentalize the incident as I would have ordinarily. It was not logical, but on several occasions Dr. McCoy had to remind me to take command and allow him to do his job."

It took Kirk a moment to translate that from Spock-speak. "You mean you were worried about me, enough so that it interfered with the mission."

"It is illogical," Spock murmured.

"No, it's not," Kirk said. In a flash of intuition, he understood. Spock had never had a friend before, certainly not onboard ship. He'd never had to deal with the conflict that rose from serving in dangerous situations alongside people you were close to personally. It made sense for such a rigidly compartmentalized mind to have trouble with the concept. "It's human, Spock, we do it all the time. Push aside personal feelings to get the job done."

"Captain, I am not human," Spock said.

"But you are, partially," Kirk pressed. "Those emotions are there, Mr. Spock, don't tell me they're not. I've seen them. They're your responsibility to deal with as you see fit, but don't give up on your career because of them."

"Captain, if my inability to handle my personal issues is a danger to the ship or the crew, then it is is my logical responsibility to find more suitable employment," Spock said. "This...friendship is a personal issue."

"And I don't see how it's putting the ship in danger," Kirk said stubbornly. "Do you know what I told my brother only a couple of weeks ago?"

Spock waited expectantly and Kirk went on, "I told him I was the luckiest captain on the fleet, that they gave you to me as First Officer. I said I couldn't have made a better choice myself. I stand by that, Spock. You're the best officer I've ever served with, and the best friend I've made in decades." Kirk swallowed, then continued, "So don't leave unless you're positive you don't belong here."

Spock was speechless for a moment, then said, "It is not that I don't belong here. It is that I do."

Now it was Kirk's turn to be speechless, and Spock continued, "It is not logical, personally or professionally. But it is true."

"Well, Mr. Spock," Kirk said slowly, "if it makes you feel any better, you don't have to accept a captaincy until you think you're ready. Or at all, if you really don't want to. You're not Command Track, there's no reason why you can't continue serving with me as long as you want." Kirk took a moment to picture it, his career with a steadfast, loyal friend always at his side. It felt _right_.

"I would be honored," Spock said quietly. "If you do not mind."

"Mind? Spock, I don't know if I could serve with anyone else now. You've thoroughly spoiled me," Kirk said lightly. "I do expect you to learn how to command on your own though. I didn't realize you never had the chance under Pike, and it is essential."

"That is logical," Spock agreed. He stood up to leave, "Thank you, Captain."

"No, Mr. Spock, thank you," Kirk said. "I don't deserve the kind of loyalty you're giving me, but I will continue to try to be worthy of it." He gave Spock a quick smile, was rewarded by the rare, eyes-only Vulcan equivalent, and realized he'd finally come home.

* * *

A/N Thank you everyone, for reading and reviewing (Special thanks to Red, who reviewed every chapter without fail). I'm so glad you all enjoyed it :)


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